One and Two and Through and Through
by Seraphim-Burning
Summary: When her son is kidnapped Alice Kingsleigh must return to a world she has avoided for seven years to face the kidnappers, her own demons, as well as the boy's father. Alice/Hatter
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: The last time Alice Kingsley visited wonderland she left with a little more then what she came with. Seven years later she has avoided Wonderland in an effort to keep her son safe from those who would harm him. However, when Charlie Kingsley is kidnapped by a man claiming to be his father Alice has no choice but to return and fight or risk loosing the one thing in her life she holds dear. **

**Note: The Title is a line from the Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll **

One and Two and Through and Through

The First

The park was crowded, filled to the brim with bodies set to enjoy the spring air on a bright Sunday afternoon. The air was filled with the ecstatic screams of children racing through the greenery at breakneck speed. Interspersed throughout the packs of roving youngsters women with parasols and prams congregated in small groups, like hens clucking and chuckling about menial things no one else could take an interest in. Young girls sat in trios and quartets, making daisy chains, playing with one another and taking turns being the bride and bridesmaids, ignorant that the immature and annoying boys around them would soon replace their pretend games and false interests. The boys, for their part, were just as oblivious. Little men with grass stained trousers and cheery smiles chased one another around the small hills and fountain, ignoring the city that surrounded the small green space. Like the women and young girls they were in smaller groups, connected through age, interests, school and money. The sun shone down on their games, warming them enough that they might remove their jackets and leave them in wrinkled heaps that would surely earn them a lecture that night before bed. A group of them raced around the stone fountain, nearly toppling a young woman holding a pale blue parasol tightly in her hands as she scanned the area casually, only half paying attention to the older man strolling along the path at her side.

Had the young boys been older they might not have been so eager to rush past. Less then twenty eight the young woman had skin as pale as a Japanese lily, a head of thick golden ringlets that was tied back for the most part but for a few curls that had escaped their constraints to frame her strong jaw line. Unknown to those around her ,if loose the long curls would have fallen to her waist in a cascade of light but for the sake of civility (something she abhorred) and propriety (a concept she had never fully understood) she tried her best to adhere to tradition and not embarrass her companion. So, in reverence to social norms, her long hair was secured tightly with a stunning golden hair pin with a beautifully sculpted turquoise rabbit upon its end. The rest of her dress as just as eccentric. While she wore the traditional dress of a woman of her station she neglected the corset and stockings all together. The empire style of her gown suited her well and the soft blue colour of the dress emphasized the paleness of her flawless skin. In contrast, over this traditional dress was a petticoat made of the finest Chinese silks. The Golden threads that embroidered the arms and back, twisted into imaginary designs, telling a secret story that only their bearer of the coat could fully understand.

Set upon her perfect elfin face were her defining features, eyes so dark and wise that with one look a man felt as though he could fall into their depths and drown within them. Her dark eyes drew attention away from her pale lips, which were pressed into a displeased line. The expression smeared her perfect beauty as she scanned the hills and small groupings within the park. Her sharp eyes eager and searching. As she and her companion walked by, a group of nearby ladies began to whisper. She ignored them; they had been whispering for years.

"My dear would you not consider it?" Lord Ascot asked gently, congenially holding her hand upon his.

The dark eyes of Alice Kingsley fixed upon him with an unwavering stare. An intense stare for any person let alone a woman, who in all other ways, seemed to more closely resemble a china doll then a human being.

"Hector I have already made up my mind on the matter," she answered cooly, "I will not submit him to their ridicule and cruelty. It was horrible when was a child and I am sure it is worse now."

He sighed at his spot next to her and patted her hand gently with the fondness of a father for a favoured daughter. It was obvious to anyone who knew them that their relationship was a deeply paternal one, despite the rumours that followed them through England. Hector, or rather Lord Ascot, had known her since she was a babe in swaddling and had loved her as a daughter ever since. Charles had been his best friend and the day Alice had declared her distaste to marrying his son, Hamish, and her desire to join him in business she had been his apprentice as well as protégé. It also helped that refusing Hamish' hand showed a great deal more foresight and logic then he had had the presence of mind to use when asking for the hand of Lady Ascot. Now, Alice was one of the most accomplished woman in England, a key figure (albeit a silent one) in his own company and independently wealthy beyond her wildest dreams. However, it had never been Alice's ability to provide for herself that had worried him, rather her interactions with other human beings.

For as long as he had known Charles the man had been a precarious balance of pure insanity and pure genius. His charming manners and handsome face opened many doors for him but his erratic disposition and crazy notions closed them as well. Alice was very much the same except her traits proved to be even more polar. Her beauty was perfect and flawless, her singular determination and flights of fantasy were more pronounced then her father had ever displayed. Those qualities which were so marketable in their profession also prevented her from making a happy match in terms of matrimony. She got by as a single woman without a husband to support her but mostly the taunts were subdued because he was at her side so consistently. Most of their contacts in their international exploits considered him to be an indulgent father, fostering his daughter's brilliance to overshadow his son's lack thereof. He hated to admit it but there was truth to the notion. No one of that acquaintance cared about Alice's personal life, it was beyond their interest, however the London set was quite different and poor Alice was often the object of ridicule and scorn both openly and behind closed doors, most notably from his own family.

Hamish was his son and only child but he was also stubborn, stuffy, frightened of his own shadow and more haughty then any daughter could be. The boy had taken his own worst traits and combined them with the disposition of the Lady Ascot to create one of singularly most annoying people Hector had ever met. He had no allusions of Hamish nor the empty headed and opinionated hen the man had eventually married. Both were more concerned with preening and attending balls where they might be seen to consider where the money that kept the estate running came from and who had produced it. Hamish's childish behaviour coupled with the boy's mother and his wife over indulging his every whim had dismissed him from Hector's radar long ago. With his own son so out of his mind he concentrated on his 'adopted daughter". Alice was everything he would ever have wanted in a daughter and it saddened him sometimes that they would never be related by marriage and that the only way he could secure her future and fortune was to leave control of the company to her, a notion that would send his wife to her own grave. Still, her welfare was paramount and that being clear between them the welfare of her son was just as important.

He let go of her hand and watched as she strolled across the grass gracefully, earning glares from the ladies as she showed no caution or concern for her dress, shoes, coat or any of the niceties that most women seemed to value. He followed at a slow pace, observing mother and child with a touched expression.

He watched as he lowered herself joyfully under a large tree, quite isolated from where the rest of London seemed to be loitering, to sit next to the small form of a boy no more then six. Her long arms wrapped around him and her face buried itself in his fire coloured curls. She whispered something into the child's ear that had the young boy turn his face towards her, a large smile upon his generous mouth. It was her mouth of course, perhaps one of a few features she had lent his appearance. He had always pitied the poor child that. He was illegitimate of course, but his life would have been a great deal easier had he taken his appearance from his mother's side. A young boy with golden waves and smouldering eyes would have made a great impression among his counterparts at the private schools regardless of the particulars of his birth, then a child with a mass of riotous ginger curls and eyes so green that they took on a yellow tinge in the right light. He observed the boy fondly. Alice had done what she could with his appearance, she kept the curls cut short to his head, she slathered the poor child's pale skin with any ointment she could to keep it from turning bright red with painful burns. Still nothing could draw attention from the child's appearance and he was the focal point of many an argument or sharp barb.

For most business men the name Charles Kingsley was still held in some esteem and so she had gifted her son with that name hoping that at least part of the revere would carry over. It had not but she had tried and that was something.

It was strange to see the child in this setting, not sitting beneath a tree reading and writing but rather in the heart of London. After some sort of altercation Alice had refused to tell him about she had spent the next few years assisting in their international affairs hands on. She had been to the Orient, the Americas and all over Europe. She had seen the dark continent of Africa and had seen the golden world of the Caribbean. She was the most well travelled person he had known and through it all she had taken her son. Nine months after her hurried voyage she had given birth and he had not even been aware she was expecting.

The child was born in India, his mother assisted by other women in beautiful robes and coffee coloured skin. His first breath was of golden air, rich with spices and intrigue. The child's birth foreshadowed the first few years of his life. Over the last five years he had been raised in various cultures and his demeanour spoke of a person who had seen more then most and had experienced the world far beyond the confined of a classroom or writing desk. When he had first met Charlie he was in his mother's arms, wrapped head to toe in thick furs that matched those of his mother and staring out at the harbour with a look of indifference. Hector could imagine that after the splendours in which he had been brought up the dull appearance of London seemed drab to him.

"Come on my love, show me what you've done," he could hear Alice wheedling the boy as he climbed up the heel, relying more heavily on his cane then he had in years.

Charlie seemed amused by his mother, favouring her with an indulgent smile before placing his small leather bound book into her hands.

"Oh how wonderful!" Alice gushed happily before sensing his presence and looking up, "Here Hector, come see how wonderful these are."

Grinning at the small family he reached out with his free hand and took the leather book. His wife had railed against the idea of giving a child such an expensive plaything and had raged against Alice's indulgence of the boy when she had seen the child with the book a few weeks ago. He had merely scoffed at such a silly notion. The child was not at all spoiled and used the book to his advantage. Looking at the cream coloured pages he was pleased to see rather pretty ink drawings. They were still done in a child's hand and clearly emphasized themes the young boy would be interested in but beneath their clumsiness he fancied he saw the hand of a young master. After all, boys a great deal younger the Charlie had caused much more of a fuss.

"Mama, why is the sky blue, why not green, or the colour of goldfish in the water?" he asked softly, eyes wide with excitement.

"Because my love, if the sky was not blue then how would I ever tell the different between the sky and your eyes. I might confuse them and then one day you would simply disappear, float away and I might never find you," Alice smiled back sweetly, "And to lose you would surely break my heart."

"Mama when we go home can we play chess," he asked eagerly, "Uncle Hector was teaching me last week."

"Of course my love," she replied with a smile, before looking up at him, "If Uncle Hector has the time."

The boy smiled and tucked himself tightly under her arm, his head leaning against her side rather tiredly. Alice seemed to notice at that moment that he was totally alone.

"Where are your friends and ?" she asked, "Today was supposed to be a play date for you."

The young boy turned his eyes to his lap, worrying his small hands. As he looked it became clear that the he was a great deal paler then Alice herself. While she took one a peaches and cream glow he was almost white. It did suit him, as if he were merely an apparition of a little boy rather then a real child. Hector squatted down to listen to his soft voice.

"They're not my friend." he replied softly, "They don't like me. They won't let me play with them no matter what Mrs. Brennan says. They say I look silly, like a circus clown and they call me names."

He watched as Alice's face took on a stone cold glare.

"What did they call you?" she asked seriously.

Charlie turned his face to her dress to hide his eyes. His mother was not deterred. While she did not pull him from her she did turn him to face her, her own face a mask of impartiality but underneath Hector could see the outrage.

"They called me Bastard Mummy, and say that I am a freak" he stated as seriously as he could despite his muffled words, "And say that I was so strange that my father left us and soon you'll leave me to and put me in a prison where the crazy children go."

He exhaled heavily and straightened up, watching as Alice wrapping her now sobbing son into her arms and lifted him effortlessly. The boy clung to her as if she were a lifeline, her body was his shield. The pitiable state of the child was obvious, and they walked side by side across the green park that no longer seemed as happy as it did only moments before. The other children did not even glance as they moved passed and Hector felt that old familiar pain for the young boy, with a careful hand he tucked the small notebook into his jacket pocket and followed mother and son out of the part towards their London home.


	2. Chapter 2

The Second

Alice gathered her overcoat around herself, taking a small lamp in hand as she moved across the bedroom and headed down towards the hall. The fire in the little hearth burned merrily, warming the chill and casting strange shapes and shadows across the wall. At the doorway her she stopped, eyes turned to linger upon the small form in the beautiful mahogany carved bed. He looked so at ease, covered in pelts from the far north, silks of many vibrant colours from the orient and drapes from India that told strange tales of many armed gods, heroes and creatures so magical it was hard to believe that they walked the earth. His hair glistened in the firelight, catching the golden highlights at the ends of the curls she had sheered short. It grew so quickly she usually cut it once a month to keep it from running riot over his small head. His paleness was startling to most but she believed it reflected colour, like a blank canvas shining back at whoever was brave enough to look upon it. Perfect lips that matched her own were parted slightly in the peace of sleep and she hoped and prayed he would have good dreams. Then again he seemed more at home in his dreams then in the real world, a notion she could easily relate to.

Her heart ached for him, her tiny little child so alone in the world with none but her to understand him.

She turned on her heel, heading down the stairs to where Hector and her mother were waiting.

She still lived in her father's house, unwilling to leave either her mother or her home .Given that for so many years she had been overseas it hardly seemed necessary to buy a larger house, even if her wealth could easily afford an entire street block should she so choose. It seemed so strange, to be back in London with its strict rules and regulations. Since her return home Hector had been a constant companion, helping her navigate through the tempestous waters of English society. Alice did enjoy his company, he was kind to her and Charlie both and she did understand that in most cases a young boy needed a strong male role model. However, Charlie was not a different case altogether he was simply a different breed. When she was pregnant she had secretly hoped he would not be, that he would take after her mother or sister but the moment the red haired baby was placed in her arms she knew it would not happen. His life would be as hard as her own, difficult as a bird who was asked to swim instead of fly.

Entering the room she spotted her mother and friend in close conversation with one another. Her shrewd eyes caught them both as she walked confidently to the chesterfield and took a seat, placing the light upon the table and fixing her eyes on the two conspirators opposite her.

"Well, say your piece?" she stated smartly.

The two older people looked at one another before Hector cleared his throat.

"Alice, dear" he began, for a moment she nearly laughed at his demeanour, he looked like he was about to give a speech to the House of Lords rather then two ladies in a parlour, "I know I have stated it before and I know your have refused every time but, given the circumstances I seriously think we should reconsider the situation."

Alice fixed him with her best glare, "I think, if anything, this reaffirms what I have been saying. He does not belong in these schools."

"He has to go to school Alice, he has to meet other children. Be a normal little boy." her mother started.

"WHY?" Alice cried suddenly, "Why does he have to be a normal boy? He's not and there is nothing wrong with it. From what I've seen normal boys are hateful little creatures with foul mouths and bad dispositions. I would rather Charlie be himself."

"Alice you must admit there is something wrong with the boy?" her mother cried.

She jumped to her feet, her eyes shinning with outrage, "I will not. There is nothing wrong with him. He is wonderful. Was there something wrong with me when I was little? I was just like Charlie!"

"No you weren't" her mother answered earnestly, "You were like Charles. Alice, your father was a completely different sort of man. The boy worries me, no other children will talk to him and when he does speak to others it's mostly in nonsense stories and riddles. Mabel Weatherby told me herself that her son William refuses to speak to the child for fear the boy is mad."

"Perhaps her sweet William is an arrogant little bully," Alice snapped hotly before taking a deep breath and turning to the fireplace.

"What of another school then?" Hector suggested, stepping between the warring women, "Perhaps in the continent. A fresh start for little Charlie."

"Which continent?" Alice asked, suddenly feeling playful and whirled around to face the wall on the opposite side of the parlour.

Upon it hung a huge map of the known world. Her eyes looked upon it longingly. Moving to it she forgot of her mother and Hector and ran her hands along the paper, taking pleasure in the texture. She had been almost everywhere, seen what there was to see and wonders that most people would only imagine and then again she had imagined something so much greater. She ran her fingers along a black gem at he throat. A wistfulness came upon her, the one place she would have loved to take her son was the one place they could not.

"All the world and no place to go." she whispered to herself.

Her hand fell to her overcoat pocket and gently fingered the object tucked into it's folds. Breaking free of the moment she turned to the other two people in the room with new determination.

"My son will not be sent away. I am his mother and currently the only person in this world he is capable of connecting to. I shall never send him away. He is my son." she stated seriously, before speaking to her mother directly, "I will not here another word on the matter. Charlie will remain at my side. I can teach him everything he needs to know,"

"Alice you can't do that." Her mother whispered softly, "It will only make matters worse. The child is not right as it is. Isolating him alone in this house with you will do no good to either of you."

"How would you know?" Alice snapped hotly, "Just a few years ago you were telling me the key to my happiness was a marriage to Hamish. "

Her eyes apologized to Hector but the man cleared his throat, "I have something to contribute. I have been thinking of Charlie's situation and in my opinion the boy would do well to be claimed by a man. Mind, just the acknowledgement might help. Not only is Charlie eccentric but being both that and illegitimate is not a good position to be in. Should another child simple wish to speak to the boy any decent parents would most assuredly go out of their way to prevent a connection. He will have trouble marrying well and all the money in England will not change that Alice."

The blonde woman turned her head, her eyes looking away from her business partner to her fire again. Her eyes sad and unfocussed.

"Alice I offer Hamish. I have already spoken to him and he feels responsible for his part in this scandal." Hector began, "He and his wife would not be dishonoured to allude to the fact that before he had married the two of you..."

Alice scoffed angrily, "Of course Hamish would have no compunctions painting me as a whore."

"Better then naming your son a bastard while remaining above reproach yourself," her mother replied sharply, "Alice, do this. Name Hamish the boy's father, the child's odd appearance can be written off and his eccentricities lessened with his being the son of a Lord. Were I not aware of your distaste for Hamish I would have inquired as to his place in the child's paternity."

"Stop calling him that!" Alice snapped, " He is not 'the child', his name is Charlie. I am quite aware that I did not marry his father. It wasn't possible but know that I did not leave him because I chose to, I left because I had to. I left for Charlie's sake, so he might have a normal life. That does not mean I respect the man that gave me my son so little I would name a stranger his father."

"Oh and the father deserves this respect does he?" her mother continued, "It has been seven years since he put that baby in your belly and I have yet to see him. If he loves you and your child so dearly and if he is so worthy of your loyalty then where is he Alice? Where is he? I would very much like to meet the man who ruined my daughter's prospects for a good marriage, landed her with a bastard child and did not even have the decency to write once in the boy's entire life."

She was about to retort when a soft sob had Alice turning from her mother to the doorway to the hall where a small form stood peeping around the corner. Charlie's brilliant green dressing robe was pulled around him, setting off the red of his curls. His normally vibrant eyes were downcast and so dark in the low light they resembled her own. His face was contorted in the most heartbreaking expression Alice could recall ever seeing him make. There was no doubt he had been at that door for some time.

"Charlie?" Alice asked softly.

The little boy backed away from the doorway, his eyes watching her painfully before turning on his heel and running towards the stairs. Careless of her mother or Hector's impression Alice turned tail to follow him. Her eyes wide half shut with regret and pain.

"May I come in?" she asked softly at the doorway.

Two small green eyes peeped out of the expansive bed. All around him she could see Charlie had gathered his favourite things to him. Stuffed animals of every shape, size and colour, his long green satin dressing gown from China, the pillows he had slept on as a new born when they had been in India. Wooden soldiers from the Americas and the small drum on his lap from Africa. His blankets were from various places, too many to count and a rainbow of colours, designs and shades. He had dragged them over his head and looked out through the small patch of opening, his face hidden in the depths. He had constructed a small fortress to protect himself from his own pain, the notion made her proud of her son while simultaneously causing a deep stab of guilt to run through her belly.

"Yes." he replied simply to her question. She watched as the lump of blankets grew more lumpy, signifying his retreat into them.

Alice moved slowly, her eyes fixed on her son. Gently she eased herself to the side of his bed, her hands smoothing out the blankets before she attempted to remove them. The opening of the blankets closed tightly and Alice sighed. Rising and moving to the door she quickly closed and bolted it before returning to the bed. From here she removed her gowns and her dress until she sat in only her slip and her stockings. Smiling she pulled back the covers and eased herself into her son's bed. With a smile she dragged the same blankets over her own head, entering his sanctuary. Nestling herself against the pillow she let her golden hair fan out around him, her eyes playing merrily and searching his out. They gleamed even in the dim shade of he covers. She grinned at his appearance, simply because it was so like his fathers.

"Hello my handsome love." she whispered as he pulled back the covers slowly.

Her heart broke to see the small face stained with tears. Reaching over she used her fingers to wipe the tears from his eyes, pulling him to lie against her side and face to face with her.

"I'm not handsome." he replied, "I know I'm not. I am strange and ugly. All the boys at school tell me so, even Grandmother thinks I'm odd looking..."

"Hush now," Alice demanded, her eyes growing concerned as she searched her son's pale face, "I will not hear another word of it. Am I beautiful?"

He looked at her in confusion for a moment before nodding his head.

"Well then, I am beautiful and I thought your father was beautiful. Therefore my love. You are beautiful. If your father and I both are then you must be." she grinned, "It is logical isn't it?"

He smiled softly in the light before fixing his eyes upon her, their brilliance gleamed ethereally.

"Mummy, tell me about my Daddy. Was he a soldier?" he asked.

She smiled, "I suppose he was a soldier of sorts. Why would you think that?"

"Well, Gregory Everest's father was a soldier. He died in a war in Africa and that's why he's not around anymore. Is that why Daddy isn't with us? Is he in heaven with Gregory's father?" he asked.

Alice felt her throat tightened and she pulled his head to hers and pressed their foreheads together, letting her fingers run through the tightly wound fiery ringlets.

"No my love, your father is not in heaven, or at least I do not think he is." she replied softly, "He lives in a land far, far away from you and I. I am sure if he knew about you he would think of you every single day and miss you like a hole in his chest."

"He doesn't know about me?" Charlie asked wide eyed, "Why not?"

Alice smiled, her son was so intelligent but at times more so then she would like.

"Because Mummy was selfish and she never told him. By the time I knew I was going to have you I was already too far away from where he was and could not go back. There are people there who would hurt you if they knew you were alive. Besides, I'm afraid I've lost my map and could not find my way back to him even if I wanted too. "

Charlie seemed interested, his sadness lost admit the ocean of his attention. His eyes widened at her and his disposition spoke of someone with a secret. He watched as she reached into pulled back the covers and reached for her dressing gown at the foot of the bed. Fumbling a moment she finally began picking through it and produced a normal sized, silver pocket watch. She held it before him so he could see the light slip and slide off its smooth surface as it twisted and twirled on its chain.

"This was a gift from your father the last time I saw him." she whispered gently, "I had complained that I did not feel we had enough time together and just before I left he gave me this. He told me that all his time was mine if I ever have need of it."

"Do you want to go back?" he asked conspiratorially, "To Daddy and where he lives?"

Alice closed her eyes, picturing the eternal tea party in her mind; the ever set table with the March Hare and the Dormouse and the Hatter among them all, looking up her with his strong gaze and unearthly eyes. The way his eyes smiled when he saw her and the grin he gave her when he offered her a cup. She smiled in her memory, the feeling of his fingers brushing against her cheek, the smooth velvet of his coat on her bare arms and his breath on her neck. Opening her eyes once more she was met with those matching eyes, so like his and so completely different.

"Oh yes," she whispered softly, "More then anything I would like to see him again before I die. But by then I will be old and he will just as he always is in my mind. I would feel ashamed, having time grant me so much while it won't take a single thing he offers it."

The boy didn't comment on the statement, he just curled tightly into her side as she continued to run her hands through his hair. Her short lived romance (the only one of her life) kept her heart alive and (in her mind) kept Wonderland safe guarded. The overshadowing sadness was a small price to play for the precious creature she had carried in her belly and now held in her arms. There were nights when she wondered what the Mad Hatter would think of his son if he were ever to meet him. Of course the idea was merely a fantasy, Wonderland was a long distant dream and Charlie was much safer in the cruel real world where people ignored him then in Wonderland where his parents had been instrumental in exhaling two very unstable and violent individuals. Closing her eyes she kept her heart as light as she could before falling into a deep sleep. She might have given up everything else that really mattered but she had her son and as long as could hold onto that thought she would be all right.


	3. Chapter 3

**Note: Please let me know if you think the story is advancing too slowly or too quickly. **

The Third.

When he opened his eyes the fire was gone from his grate and his mother was sleeping at his side. Charlie tilted his head lightly to observe his mother for a moment. She really was very, very lovely. He had long ago decided that if were ever forced to marry a girl he would very much like to marry his mother. She was kind, sweet, and knew just how to take care of him. She told the best stories and smelled better then any other mother he had ever met. Looking at her with pleased eyes he took a long hank of her blonde hair and held it in his hands. She slept in his bed sometimes, not always but sometimes, when he or she was sad. Tonight he was sad. He knew it well enough. He had heard things he was sure the grown ups had not meant for him to hear and his mother had gotten upset and had run to his room with him.

He looked at her one more time, dropping her hair and leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek. Other boys hated touching or kissing their mothers, he had seen it at school. Gregory Everest despised it and William Weatherby did as well but he loved to kiss his mother. He felt that since his father was not there it was his job. His mother had no one else to protect her, to keep her safe and for as long as she could recall (not really all that long) he had watched over her. They were together, just them two, and they took care of one another. It was different when he was a baby but now that he was a young man and in school he understood his mother would need him to watch over her more closely, to care for her since his father could not. It did not seem like an easy job but it was one he was up too.

He sighed at the thought of his father. He wondered why he was never there and the other times he had asked his mother about him she had gotten such a sad look he never asked again. He had really been hoping his father was in heaven; it would have meant he was not with them because he was dead and couldn't be not because he didn't want to be. Knowing his father didn't know about him also made him feel a little better about the situation. He thought of his mother's sad face when she spoke of the man and wished there was some way he could take away those tears. Suddenly Charlie was struck with a wonderful idea.

Easing out of the bed with extreme care so as not to wake her he moved his body towards the writing desk Hector had set in the corner. His mother had taught him his letters the moment he was old enough to hold pen and ink and he practised every single day. While his own writing was not nearly as fine as hers it was legible if one really tried to read it. Setting his mind to writing as neatly as he could he took a few leafs of paper and brought it to the rug near the fire. Then, after the paper was set down neatly, he returned to the desk to collect his tools. His mother had bought him a special collection of glass quills he had yet to use and green and red ink for another occasion. Deciding this was a special enough occasion he dipped the pen in ink so carefully and began his letter.

Charlie worked into the night until he began to see the beginnings of the sun rise above the darkness and the indigo of the sky turn and pinkish with the dawn. His letter complete he placed it in an envelope and sealed it with the CK sigil his mother had gotten for his last Christmas. He smiled at the image stamped in red wax of his initials, a raven and a quill all enclosed in a perfect circle. Moving to the window he climbed upon the small bench that jutted out of the window sill and quietly opened the casement. If his mother had seen him he would be in great trouble, he was forbidden from playing by the window on his own since she was convinced he would fall to his death. Careful to hold onto the side of the window he looked around suspiciously to ensure no one was watching. Reaching out as far as he could he began waving the letter frantically in the air, shaking it as one would a flag, determined to catch someone's attention. At length a raven came to rest on the ledge of the window, it's dark onyx gaze staring at him determinedly.

"I need you to take this letter to my Daddy," Charlie began seriously, "He lives in a place where there are no maps and he doesn't know my name but he will know my mother is Alice."

The bird cawed sagely reaching for the letter with it's vice like beak. It took it from him without complaint before heading to the skies once more. It wasn't very often he sent letter by Raven, his mother already thought him odd and he knew his grandmother and Uncle Hector did not approve of odd things , so for his mother's sake he tried to be as normal as possible.

As silent as he began he scampered back into his bed, curling next to her once more He wished so much that he could be like her, look like her and act like her. The boys at school teased him because of his hair and his skin and eyes and the strange things he often said. He closed his eyes and thought of all the stories she had told him that he could remember and hoped and prayed one day he would have stories all his own to tell.

"I do know how difficult this is for you my love but Hector and your grandmother think it's for the best." his mother whispered to him, straightening his collar for the fifth time that more and flattening down his hair with her hands.

He bit his lip and nodded bravely, more then willing to set aside his anger because of the sad look in her eyes. She was really well dressed, he could tell because she had put on a dress today instead of trousers. The dress was a really pale blue with dark black designs on the bottom that he thought were quite interesting. He hated his own clothes despite his mother looking so pretty. He was in the normal clothing he had to wear for school, suspenders and a ironed shirt and jacket, a small cap. The entire thing was a dirt brown colour that the other kids said made him look like a clown about to perform a trick or a tree about to die. He thought both descriptions were horrible and wanted to be back at home in his room writing wearing his bright clothes. However his mother had insisted that they come here and after he realized she did not really want to do this herself he decided he should not make this harder then it must be.

"Now I want you to be nice to Lord Ascot when he arrives," she cooed over him, still trying to push his hair under the cap,, "He was kind enough to meet with us and entertain this idea, as was his wife."

Charlie pouted, "Mama I don't want to call Lord Ascot as my father."

He watched as his mother bit her lip, turning away from him for a moment and wiping her eyes before turning back, "Nor do I my love but we can't keep doing this. You must have friends and when people believe you are the son of the Lord Ascot you shall. People will want to be your friends and will stop being so cruel to you. Now Uncle Hector and Mr. Ascot have done us this immense favour, we must honour it."

He lowered his head, rubbing his hand over the still present bruise on his cheek. He knew what had started this. His mother had been fine with just the two of them until school three days ago. He had been in the yard, sitting on a bench writing when three older boys came up to him. He had moved away but they followed, yelling things about him not having a father, telling the others to do it as well. Soon there had been a crowd around him all calling him names, making fun of his face and his hair and his skin and eyes. He had gotten angry, really, really angry. He remembered the older boy hitting him in the face and then nothing at all. He had only really woke up when the Principal grabbed him around his arms and dragged him into the office. He had a bruise on his cheeks and apparently had hurt his 'ribs'. He was not worried about it but his mother had not been happy. She had been angry and then cried and then locked herself in a room with Uncle Hector and his Grandmother. When they had come out of the room she had looked sad, his grandmother had looked worried and Uncle Hector had looked stern.

His Mother had told him that the Principal at the school had decided to expel him and the other reason he would be allowed in the new school he would be going to was because Uncle Hector had asked the Headmaster of the school himself and told a lie. Because of what happened he would have to meet Uncle Hector's son Mr. Hamish and would have to pretend Mr. Hamish was his father. He hadn't wanted too. He had cried and screamed and been very upset until his mother had fallen to her knees and begun to cry herself. After that they had had a long talk.

Men and women at the school wanted to take him away, they said he was a bad boy with a bad mother. She had gotten a man who knew how to say things from the law books to help her keep him but in order for them to do that he would have to go to a boys school and be very, very good. The boy who had fought with him was badly hurt (although Charlie thought this must be a lie since he had no memory of it) and the boy's father wanted to put him in a hospital for people who were mad. Charlie did not think himself mad at all and his mother said to everyone that he was certainly not mad.

"Now you be a good boy and Mr. Hamish will come to see you here in just a moment," his mother smiled at him, it as a fake smile but she was doing her best so he nodded and hoped onto the white metal chair.

His mother kissed him gently, pressing her hand to his cheek before pausing and reaching into the bodice of her gown, smoothly she pulled out the silver pocket watch and swiftly connected it to his small vest.

"Here, for bravery." she smiled, "And so you remember that this is just pretend."

With that she pushed herself to her feet and gave him her most apologetic look, then she turned on her heel and left without another world.

Charlie watched her retreating back with a sad look as his hand wandered down to touch the watch. It didn't matter if he was mad or not. He was sitting here, in this large country yard where Uncle Hector lived, on an uncomfortable little chair waiting for Mr. Hamish to arrive. He had seen Mr. Hamish before. When he was very little his mother had come here for a wedding and he was brought alone. Mr. Hamish had been getting married to a lady with a pinched nose and light yellow hair. The had both looked rather fake and to Charlie seemed more like dolls then real people. Mr. Hamish had made a very long speech in which he had fallen asleep on his mother's lap and the lady he was marrying had not wanted to look at his mother or even talk to her when they had gone up to congratulate them. He had not liked them. The lady smelled funny and Mr. Hamish looked like a bird he had seen once.

He wished his mother had let him bring toys or let him use his writing books and ink. He had wanted to write a story for Mr. Hamish as his mother had told him it was important to be kind to him and be as likeable as possible but when he suggested the idea his mother said it would be best not to get any ink on his fingers and instead to just sit and wait. The materials tucked into his jacket pocket called to him but he resisted, for her sake. Reaching up he twirled his own red hair on his fingers. His mother always cut his hair short but with all the upset it was growing out again. He liked it, even though everyone else hated it. He liked how it fell in curls and how messy it could get and how when he shook his head it stood up everywhere. His mother had done as much as she could but he knew it must look strange. He sigh, everything about him was strange.

"Hello there young man,"

Charlie turned and nearly toppled over in his seat. As the chair toppled with a clatter he caught himself on his hands before pushing himself back to his feet. His eyes were curious at this new man before him. It was a strange and his mother had warned him of those so he kept his distance. The man who had spoken was dressed rather nicely in his eyes. While everyone else was wearing horrible suits of brown and tan this man wore black pants with high boots that reminded Charlie of pirate books his mother read to him before bed. The man's hair was as black as a ravens wing and tied back with a bright red tie. His shirt was pretty, much like the shirts he had seen people wear in India except it was so bright red that it almost hurt his eyes, the linen had designs in it but to see them Charlie would have to get closer. A band was tied around half his face and Charlie thought that for a moment he might actually be a pirate. His mother's warnings ran through his head sharply as he backed behind the chair and squatted down.

"I said hello," the man repeated in a playful tone.

Charlie peaked around the edge.

"Hello" he replied softly, his eyes glaring at this man.

"Come now is that any way to greet me?" the man replied openly, "I have come a very, very long way to see you Charlie."

This caught his attention and he straightened up, doing his best to push the wrinkles out of his clothes.

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers." he replied seriously, "My mother will be cross with me if I do."

The man seemed to think on this for a moment before looking at him through the one exposed eye.

"Well then, I offer a solution." he smiled, taking a step closer, Charlie held his ground, "I know your mother from before you were born. I was an admirer of hers once. Therefore I am not a stranger to you since you came from inside her."

Charlie thought of this explanation and it seemed reasonable enough to him. Nodding to the man he took a step forward.

"I think we should introduce ourselves then." Charlie explained, "Mommy says that's what people do."

The man nodded and stepped onto the veranda full. Charlie was forced to strain his neck looking up to see the man. The man looked down for a moment before kneeling before him. Even then Charlie still had to strain.

"Very well, I am Ilosovic Stayne." he stated politely, reaching forward to shake hands.

Charlie smiled, "I am Charlie Kingsley. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine," Ilosovic replied easily, "I have wanted to meet you for sometime Charlie. Especially since I received this letter."

Charlie gasped. There, in the very tall man's hand was his own letter. The one he had written the night his mother had fallen asleep in his bed. He had asked the raven to take it to his father. His eyes widened with realization.

"That's my letter!" he cried, before fixing a new gaze upon this impossibly tall man, "Does this mean...?

"You did not think I would come for my son?" the man with the dark hair replied with a smirk, "The moment the raven dropped it into my lap I knew that I had to see you for myself. I had no idea my dear love Alice had had a child. What wonderful news isn't it?"  
Charlie took a step back, suddenly remembering his mother's words.

"You don't look like me," he stated skeptically, "My mother said my father looked like me."

"Oh, Its been a long time since I have seen your mother. People change you know."the man replied dissuasively.

"Mommy said you would look the same." Charlie defended.

"Well she must have been mistaken. Sometimes people make mistakes. I do hope she will not be disappointed." he answered with a smile, "Now come on, we must hurry, time is different here then where I'm from."

The young boy stopped and stared, turning to look back at the manor house before staring at his man before him. This man who was his father. It was a bit of a disappointment really, he had hoped his anther would look like him but this man had dark hair and back eyes and tanned skin. Still he seemed very nice and he said he knew his mother and he had known his name, plus he had the letter. Charlie let his guard drop slightly.

"I can't go. I am here to meet Mr. Hamish, he is supposed to pretend to be my father since you live in a place Mummy can't find anymore."

"Oh really," Ilosovic smiled, "I had no idea. Well then, when we get there we must send her a note or letter to let her know how to find us and to tell her you've come home with me."

"But I am supposed..." Charlie tried before his thoughts became to jumbled, twisting his red curls around his finger nervously, "Mummy will be worried."

The man stood up suddenly his eyes growing cold with each second, "Well then I must have been mistaken when I took this letter to mean you and your mother wanted to have your father back. I am sorry I came here when this Mr. Hamish has already agreed to being your father. That shall do then and do not try to find me Mr. Kingsley, you will certainly fail."

The man turned on his heels and strolled away. Charlie stood stock still for a moment, tugging at his hair painfully. His eyes shooting from the manor to the retreating form of the man behind him. In a moment his decision was made.

"Wait!" he called.

The man who was his father stopped immediately, turning around to face him.

Reaching into his jacket he produced the pen and book immediately, scrawling his message he pulled out the page and left it on the chair before turning and heading toward the now again moving form of the very tall man.


	4. Chapter 4

The Fourth

"I have spoken to the inspector, the servants and to Hamish himself. No one saw the chid leave or go anywhere. No one noticed anyone taking him form the grounds and all the was left was this and it's utter nonsense." Hector sighed.

Gently, he pressed the small folded piece of paper into her hands. It was so tiny there was no doubt where it came from. Sometimes, when Charlie was in a mood ,he would pull the paper for his books and scatter it upon the walls. He would then play pretend. Creating a whole new place within the confines of one room, showing her a whole new world without ever leaving their own. She held the small sheaf tenderly, as if it were the most fragile thing in the world. Then rather carefully she opened the paper and ran her fingers along the hurried lines. He really did have bad penmanship when he was rushing:

_Dear Mummy_

_Gone with my Father. Come to see us when you know where we are._

_Love Charlie Kingsley_

Hector was right. It made no sense. Hamish had never even met with Charlie. In fact he had come in annoyed as a poodle in the rain to inform them the child had run off. He had made one or two remarks about her own desire to keep him waiting before hurrying to his study to amuse himself. It was only Alice and Hector who realized something was not right. Charlie was obedient, perhaps not to others be definitely to her. The idea he would run off on his own was laughable. The boy would barely ever left her side. She had been worrying on the future all morning because she had no idea HOW they were going to send him away to school and keep him there. Even the thought of that broke her heart.

It had been a horrible few weeks. After the fight with her mother and Hector she had felt everything was better. Charlie had gone to school, she had arranged a few more play dates with other mothers and those were met with more success then the previous ones. She was pulling out of her own sadness by concentrating on her child's well being and the new focus the business was taking rather then her darker thoughts of love and loss. Being forced to turn her back on her lover and his world never placed her in a good mood but her devotion to Charlie's happiness made necessary. She would move on, he would move on and she and her son would continue to explore the world. Life was not perfect but it was better then it had been in the early years and she was grateful for that.

Then there was the incident. From what she gathered one of the older boys had been teasing Charlie at school and the fight became physical. The students who had been there, who had seen said that the moment the older boy touched her son, had said it had seemed like something inside had snapped him. The way he fought the older boy, the way he moved was unbelievable. The other boys were scared and although he had bruises on his cheek and some bruised ribs the other boy had been knocked unconscious for days. When he had awoken he had claimed Charlie was a devil and the boys father insisted that he be removed from the school. While she argued most of the claims were completely unbelievable she knew better. She had seen her son's father move in strange ways on far too many occasions. After the battle he had Fudderwacked with movements a human body was not capable of. He had fought with a strength that was impossible for his form and he was capable of inflicting great harm when needed. The fact Charlie didn't remember was a blessing but she could see the parts of herself in the boy slipping away. Tarrant often lost himself in moments of violence, his eyes turning that eerie orange and the thickness of his accent permeating the air. When she had seen him in those moments he had not been Tarrant at all but rather the Mad Hatter, dark and vicious. That was not something she wanted for her son. Even at six it was obvious very little of her own human self had made it into the child. As he great he would become more and more like his father and that frightened her; his father would no more fit in the real world then she had been able to in Wonderland. She stopped herself, and nearly fell to the ground.

The note.

It was impossible.

Then again she knew her own son was a reminder of impossibly and how flexible those rules were. She thought up at least six impossible things before breakfast and she had seen the impossible happen far to often to start doubting it now. She dropped to her knees as the blackness caved in around her.

When she dreamed she saw him. She had always seen him in her dreams and she knew everything there was to know. She knew when she concentrated hard enough she could bring her mind to him, watch him and see where he was. It wasn't to hard to do but ever since Charlie she had tried not to do it. Not that she was ashamed of the connection rather she simply wanted her son to have a normal life and that meant distancing them both from her dreams. From the moment he was born she realized that the life that Wonderland offered was great for a child but to an adult it was lacking. She had seen maybe few humanoid people there but very, very few children if any at all. Her son would never find a wife, live a normal life, buy a home, raise a family or really grow up. Life would be one never ending tea party and while the idea was attractive to her it was not fair to do that to her own child. He was her boy. It was her responsibly to give him the best chance at a life that she could. If she were to ignore that responsibly she might as well stop calling herself his mother.

They had returned home hours ago, the doctor her mother had called for brought her something to help her sleep. She could hear the whispers in the other room. _The child was gone. Her son was most likely dead. Perhaps his disappearance was a blessing of sorts_. She ignored all of them, took her medicine with any alcohol she could find and laid down in her son's bed. Closing her eyes she breathed in the scent of him and let her body drift away as best she could.

That night she slipped into the dream willingly, her very soul intermeshed with the essence of Wonderland and every thread of it calling out for her child and the man who had taken him. When she closed her eyes she forced her mind to concentrate on him. She pictured him as best she could; right after the battle, the first time she saw him at the tea table, the first time he pressed his lips to her, the first time he had murmured her name in passion. Every memory was at the forefront of her mind as she turned Wonderland's entire conscious into her own and focused it with pinpoint accuracy, all for one man.

She was led away from the room, her mind powered with the speed and urgency she felt in her chest. She could sense her body left behind as her consciousness drifted out of the open window and across the park. She moved down the street, passing through cars and people alike. The park was lively that day although her own mind felt the sadness at the empty tree where her son usually sat. Strangely to her the tree (which had been very much alive earlier that week) seemed to have taken a sharp turn for the worst. It's leaves were a waxy yellow colour, the bright bark had taken on a sickly grey tone and looked as if it had started peeling from the wood. She paused in her journey to see that beneath the tree a large chasm had opened up, dark and dank looking. A foul stench seemed to hover above it and Alice had turned away, unable to bear it.

Her mind circled the tree a few more time before heading to the small fountain at the centre of the park. With no hesitation it jumped in, head first. She was not at all surprised when she did not feel the bottom of the fountain crack her skull and instead she continued to pass through the murky darkness, moving this way and that as it became hard to imagine right side up and upside down. She moved swiftly in the blinding darkness before seeing the shimmer of light before her. Rushing towards her her mind burst through without disturbing the rippling water before her. Her mind barely registered the moat of the Red Queen's castle as she began to move faster and faster, swiftly over the plans and, heading towards somewhere unknown. She could see the wonderland forests trees that were twisted and flowers that were alive. Some turned to look at her as she moved by the the speed was far fast to control. Within moments she was hurtling towards the White Queen's castle, up the steps and walkway to the throne room. Her mind soared fast and hard, moving to where the woman herself was sitting and to the man to the right of her. She only stopped when it appeared she had smacked right into the Hatter, his green eyes staring straight ahead in wild confusion.

"Give him back," she shrieked at him as loudly as she could, it was nothing more then a memory of a sigh on a breeze.

"Alice?" the words came out as a whisper and within that second she was gone.

When she awoke their were faces surrounding her. Her eyes travelled to the faces, taking each in turn. Her mother was staring at her with worried eyes, Hector was staring at her with admonishment and the doctor with incredulity. All looks she had seen before in various occasions but all at once the moment she woke was not at all pleasing.

"Alice," her mother sobbed, brining her handkerchief to her mouth and turning immediately.

Alice rolled her eyes although her head was throbbing and the action set off a stabbing sensation behind them.

"Alice, how are you feeling?" Hector asked cautiously.

Starring at him, rather unsure of his position she simply raised one perfect eyebrow and pushed herself into sitting position. The physician immediately began hovering over her nattering over this and that, his glasses slipping down his nose every so often that he would have to push them back up. His hair was rather wild and she smiled at the reminder of her lover.

"How are you feeling dear girl? We were worried we had lost you." he stated seriously.

Alice's eyes widened, "Lost me?"

"Why yes, you've been in bed for almost three days my dear," he replied softly, pressing a cool hand to her head, "We were certain you had poisoned yourself."

Alice 's head whipped towards his incredulously causing the splitting pain to reverberate through her temples. Through the pain she managed a slight moan, leaning back into her son's bed and closing her eyes.

"Close the windows, draw them tight," the doctor ordered,

She felt the lurch before she actually could move and barely managed to shove the doctor to the side before vomiting all over the hard wooden floors. Apparently three days of not eating or drinking anything had left her in something of a state and what came out of her was mostly painful heaves and bile. She recalled her first months with Charlie in her belly it had been much the same. Given his paternity she should have assumed he would be a difficult child but she had been wrong. Her pregnancy was a great deal more difficult then his infancy. Morning sickness has spread into the afternoons, aches and pains had plagued her and only in India had she found relief in the mercy of a very elderly medicine woman and healer. The thought of her son brought tears to her eyes which her doctor misinterpreted.

"Come now, everyone rid this room of all these colours, " he ordered, confused both her mother and Hector began gathering her son's brilliant toys and accents, carrying armloads away.

"What are you doing?" Alice demanded, trying to scream her outrage but only managing a soft whisper.

"All these bright things will strain your eyes. You need bed rest and more then that." he replied condescendingly, "I should think you shall not try to kill yourself again knowing we will be on constant guard."

Alice gaped, "Guard? Kill myself? What are you on about? I did nothing of the sort."

The doctor's mouth seemed to pinch in a way that was all too familiar.

"Miss Kingsley, I understand it must be difficult for you to raise a child single handily, but your son's desire to run away from home should tell you something about your success in the matter." he replied in a tone she would have slapped him for.

Helpless and still weak she said nothing, her eyes boring down on the man. He was a fool, certainly one of those people her mother called in because of their credentials when that merely meant they were related to someone in court. She was absolutely shocked when he reached into his black back and produced, what looked to be, a leather belt. Before she could react he had looped it around her wrist to a small hoop she had even seen at the rail of the bed. Snapping it shut he placed a small lock upon the buckle and slipped the key into his pocket.

"My cares are not for your freakish child Miss Kingsley, regardless of how much of a danger he is to himself and others. " he replied and she suddenly understood.

"You're the father of the boy Charlie fought with at school." she stated coldly.

His slap was so unexpected that her body was thrown back. She landed amongst the remaining white pillows, her cheek glowing red. She did not utter a word, even as the pain in her head exploded in a shower of colours behind her eyes. He seemed to compose himself, reaching into his pocket and wiping his hand as though contact with her face had polluted it in some way.

"My son Michael still has nightmares about your little bastard," he answered cooly, "I have always been a firm believer in genetics and can say to you with much certainty if there is something wrong with the mother then there is little hope for the child. I feel you should revel in your good fortune, that nasty little creature is gone from your roof you might be able to make a decent match and become a respectable lady."

She didn't even have words, she simply lunged with a feral scream. The anger was so consuming she did not see her mother or Hector enter the room. She felt Hector grab her from her free side as the bed rocked beneath her struggles. Her mother began to weep while the doctor pulled in close, pinning her beneath his own weight. With her arms held down and her legs and waist beneath his weight she felt the helplessness she had not felt in years. She screamed, cried, outraged and begged even as she smirked at her and painfully pressed a syringe of some horrible liquid into her veins. Immediately she felt her mind grow heavy and her limbs grow slack. Her sluggish brain turned her head to her mother, whose red rimmed eyes shone with betrayal then to Hector who looked as though he were about to weep as well. Drooping even more she watched as the doctor spoke to her mother fiercely, pressing a small silver box into her hands. Shaking both her hands and Hector's he left the room, shooting her a dark smile before he did. Alice let her eyes rove to the ceiling, desperately trying to keep her mind as clear as possible as the blackness closed in.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Thanks to all for being so awesome and supportive, I really appreciate it.**

The Fifth

Ilosovic Stayne hurried through the brambles, not interested for one moment in anything but getting back to the Outlands and away from any sort of civilization. The magical compulsion to return to Iracebeth was not painful yet but it would be soon and he listened to the impulse wholeheartedly, well aware of what would happen if he ignored it. The fact the child behind him was panting and falling hardly mattered to him, the only concern he had for the boy was his mere survival. A bargaining chip was quite useless when it was dead. Out of the corner of his good eye he could see the little thing struggling to keep up, long fiery curls falling around the child's ears, brilliant, putrid green eyes staring out of a face that was far to much like Um's (or rather Alice's) for his own liking. Of course the paternity of the child was obvious but Stayne felt it was a boon the boy seemingly had inherited his mother's innocence and his father's stupidity. Either that or he was so desperate for a father in his little life he was not at all willing to consider the fact no one in their right mind would ever claim him for a son.

It really had been sheer luck he had managed to intercept that Raven. Having long ago gotten rid of the physical link and everything else associated with a forced immediate connection to Iracebeth, he had been sitting outside his modest cottage, watching the birds go by and thinking of just how much he missed the old days in the Red Castle when he had seen the Raven fly out of the pond. His knife, while quite rusted, had run true enough and the damn thing hadn't had enough time to utter a word before it dropped to the ground in a feathery heap. He really had been thinking it nothing more then supper but he would be damned if the horrid thing wasn't carrying a letter. The letter it held in it's beak was written well enough for him to read and he had nearly laughed with pure delight at its implications.

_Dear Sir,_

_I am Charlie Kingsley, I am six years old and I am looking for my father. My mother is Alice Kingsley and she said that you were very much loved by her and that you would love to love me. I am small for my age and have red hair and green eyes which other boys say are the colours of frogs. My mother said you did not know me so I think I should introduce myself. My grandmother and Uncle Hector would like me to have a father and I would like that to be you. Please write again, I have learned most of my letters and shall try my hardest to read it._

_Sincerely, Charlie Kingsley_

It had been one of the most ridiculous things he had ever read in his life but he believed in providence and in good things happening to horrible people. The opportunity was just far to tempting for him to ignore. He had followed the Raven's final words (forced instructions out at knife point) on how to get to the real world to find this Charlie Kingsley, then had proceeded to eat the damn thing for supper.

As he was plucking the bird a rudimentary plan was forming in his mind. Alice was one thing, even at her meagre height she was still one of the prettiest ladies of his acquaintance and he very much liked to look at pretty things. The boy would do to lure his mother back into Underland and force her into a marriage to him. Exile would be quite nicer with someone pretty to keep him company, plus Iracebeth's presence was more of a pained interaction then one with which he took any pleasure. With no companionship, especially attractive female companionship, he had become lonely and a little off his game. The child would do fine until the mother arrived and then, once she was securely in his grasp, he would kill the little bastard and the big headed bitch. It was very hard not to kill the child right now.

The boy, while obviously good natured, was far to familiar for his liking. Whereas he could blame the beautiful Um, the ethereal White Queen or her horrid big headed sister for his current situation Ilosovic found it much easier to blame the Hatter. Tarrant Hightopp was a coward and a pathetic little lapdog to the White Queen. A position he very much envied. Chief Hatter of the White Court, an unofficial knight of the realm and the father of Um's child. The whole thing infuriated him. How could a freakish man like that have everything he himself had sought his entire life? Power, a prominent position, the love of a beautiful woman and an heir, all dropped in the lunatics lap without even the smallest effort on the man's behalf.

He smirked to himself, that was not so true. He had the one thing the Hatter would now never have- the boy. His smirk morphed into a grin. With the child he could threaten and negotiate whatever he wanted. He would hold the child hostage and then kill the boy anyway once his demands were met. He would tell the Hatter of his son for just long enough to realize what the boy's death would mean and then he force the man to watch as the one connection he held to Um was brutally destroyed, he hoped he could see the man dissolve into his madness at that moment rather then be forced to wait for it. Then Ilosovic himself would replace the child he had killed with many children Um could love in its place Yes, it was a good plan. A solid plan. A plan he could back up. In time she would forget she had ever birthed the horrid little red haired thing that looked so much like his tormentor and sworn enemy.

"Mt. Stayne, father, could we rest a moment please." a little voice called from behind him.

Ilosovic turned around on his heel, his eye fixing on the small child. The boy had told him he was merely six, it fit the time frame, almost seven years since Um had last been in Underland. A measly size for a six year old, he had been double the six at that age. The boy seemed to be nervous, running his hand through his horrid red hair and looking up at him with those eyes he hated so dearly.

"Why must you rest?" Ilosovic snapped hotly, "We are miles away and when I was your age I could move much much faster. It was because of my long legs you see. I can see from here you have inherited your mother's spindly legs. She was always a great deal too small."

The boy seemed to bit down on his lip and lower his head. He smiled at the notion he had hurt the child's feelings, every time he did so it made him feel as if he were taking a small piece of revenge upon the Hatter.

"I do not mean to be so small." the boy replied after a moment before looking up hopefully, "Perhaps I will grow when I get older and be more like you father."

He was almost touched at the look in the child's eyes. Almost.

"Most doubtful, I fear you will never be a proper size. We will just have to make due." Ilosovic replied harshly, "Come along, there is no time to waste and there is no telling when the sun will come back out. Not in Underland. We must move quickly or the White Queen will get us."

This seemed to spark the boys attention and he perked up.

"The White Queen?" he asked excitedly, "Is she a real Queen, with a crown and such?"

"Of course she is," Ilosovic scoffed, his mind returning to thoughts of Iracebeth "A Queen without her crown is hardly a Queen at all."

"OH," the boy replied as if he were memorizing this truth, for a moment Stayne felt he didn't quite despise him. As much as he had the moment before

"Would you like it if I carried you?" he asked, almost shocked as the words fell from his mouth.

"Oh yes please father," the boy replied, a huge grin spreading across his face, "I am sorry I am too small, I will try to get taller as I get older. I promise I will father, I promise."

"See that you do," Ilosovic answered coldly, bending down and heaving the nearly unnoticeable weight of the child into his arms.

The boy was overtly affectionate, not surprising seeing as he had been coddled by his mother his entire life. Ilosovic sighed, the child had had a life of happiness, security and love. Hardly a proper childhood for a man but one couldn't blame the boy for that. His own childhood had been competition, he had moved through the red Queen's ranks as the unknown son of her own husband the red King. She had been sharp enough to sense his infidelity and throw him under the executioners axe however, she had done it years too late. His mother had died upon his birth, his own length at birth had been the end of her. He had been raised in the back-stabbing Red Courts his entire life and received the rank of Knave when most boys were just growing their first beards. By the time he was old enough to raise a sword he knew what he wanted to do with it. He had revelled in their capture and alliance with the Jabberwocky and his father had shown great pride in him. However survival was important and when it was his father's turn to die he was more then willing to seduce the insane Queen and take the crown. He had had the entire thing planned, once his heir was born of her he would kill her just as quickly as she had killed his father. Then he would be King. The plan had fallen to ash the moment the chosen one had arrived but even as he knew the Red Queen was destined to fall his new plan was arising. He had failed in his attempt to gain Um all those years ago and now, with her son in hand, he would be granted a second chance. Perhaps an even better opportunity, for this time he would make the Hatter watch as his dreams crashed down.

His attention turned to the child now asleep with his small head on his shoulder. Another child without a proper parent, a child who he could mould. Perhaps killing the Hatter and the boy himself was a bad idea. It would be much grander to have the boy kill the mad man.

A grin appeared on his face, and a skip in his step. He would keep the boy then, keep Um and when the time was right it would be Checkmate for the White Queen and the Hatter both.

The White Queen knew something was wrong. Even sitting upon her thrown, surrounded by happy subjects and friends she felt the moment the balance of Underland was disturbed and that the world itself was thrown on a tilt. Therefore the arrival of the message was not a surprise nor something she thought to be unexpected although it seemed so to everyone else. She had woke in the night, all to aware that something had happened somewhere in the land. At first she had thought it might be her elder sister, up to some sort of trouble, but Iracebeth's death would have been much more deeply felt and Mirana knew she would just know if her sister was no longer alive. No, this was something much worse, something different. They had been sitting in court, and she had been chattering with those around her, planning a party of sorts when the voice had entered the room.

She could sense it, they all could, a familiar presence so etched in power and magic that everyone was stuck in their place. She felt the presence near her and then turn to her right sharply, running right into the Hatter. For a moment she worried he may have lost the remaining bits of sanity he still possessed. His eyes rolled back for a moment, his face twisted with something she could not recognize and for a moment she was totally and completely at a loss. It was only when he looked out, as if he were seeing some strange vision that the voice echoed through the hall.

_Give him back_

The words were dark, desperate and the moment they were said the sun (which had been shining for the past seven years) darkened. With out even the slightest explanation the horrid crackle of thunder echoed through their large throne room and the skies opened to spew out water from their very souls. The world ceased to be as she knew it and with both the crown and vorpal at hand she was still just as powerless to stop it as she had been with the Jabberwocky. They had all turned to her and she had banished all but those she trusted most immediately. The Tweedles, March Hare, the Rabbit, Dormouse and Hatter all sat around her, their eyes wide with fear. It was the Hatter that spoke first.

"Something is wrong with Alice," he whispered.

It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

The Queen worried the skirt of her dress before looking at her eccentric friend. While he did not look the par the Hatter had once been an excellent courtier and tactician. When her forces were all but decimated she had considered elevating him to the formal status of white knight. He had refused the request twice although most of her subjects thought of his as the white knight anyhow. He had been a right mess when Alice had left wonderland with the Jabberwocky blood. She had forbade him going back to his home and insisted he be her hatter once more. It was hardly for want of hats she had done so, rather her fear that he would do harm to himself or others. Still, as time passed he seemed to bolster up, until Alice's return.

She could recall that night clearly, the same thing had happened. A sunny day turned dark and the skies had begun to weep when her white Knight Fairhaven appeared in the doorway, in his arms he held a girl who looked as though she had been drowned, muslin hung in transparent sheets around her already too pale body. Long golden hair trailing down leaving pools of water where he stood. Fairhaven had been in a right fit, consider knights were eccentric to begin with she had allowed him leave for it. He had brought the body to them and low and behold there in the muslin was most definitely Alice. It had not been too long since she left but there she was. The poor girl was a right mess, with darkening purple bruises upon her slender neck, arms side and leg. She had looked horrid but no more so then then Tarrant. Her Hatter had lost his tenuous grip and attacked the White Knight outright in anger, screaming that it was his rough treatment that had done this to Alice. The fight was ended when the girl awoke screaming, acting like a wounded animal and terrified. She had never asked what had happened although she imagined the Hatter knew from the haunted look that had echoed in his eyes for days to come. While Alice had remained with them she had grown stronger and as she did Mirana noticed Underland come back to life. The rains stopped, the flowers came out and the land seemed to heal itself. Her Hatter made more hats then ever before; beautiful, grand affairs that all the women of the realm sought out. The balls they had were stunning. And Alice had been her centre piece. The girl's beauty had matured and perfected, she was the most stunning jewel of the royal court and beloved by all. However Mirana noticed that as the girl was grew stronger her ties to Underland became worrisome. Even she, the Queen of Underland, could not control the weather or the state of the land so fully with her moods as Alice did. The Hatter as well was worrisome, she had foreseen Alice's departure and knew it would have the same reaction on her friend as it had the last time. She decided to speak to the girl and when she had she had told Alice it was time to go. To have her own life in the real world and leave Underland for good. The girl did not seem to realize she was being manipulated and through tears agreed that she owed it to her family and friends to give home a chance. Returning to Underland again would be permanent and with that in mind the Queen had used the remaining Jabberwocky blood to return her home. The Hatter had been heartbroken but a lie made him believe Alice had merely been a dream and in every dream the dreamer must awaken. Things became normal again. Until now.

Her eyes looked out her windows at the torrents there and she sighed. It would slow down her messenger. She was sure it would.

Sending Absolem to the real world had been a good idea on her part and she had ensured he would stay at Alice's side until the time came where he must return. He held the power to pass between the realities and she had used a considerable amount of her own power to protect him and then call him back.

"Your majesty, there is a minor problem."

Her dark eyes turned as she sought out the invisible voice.

The rolling head appeared first, with it's dark and dangerous eyes glowing as the body materialized behind the rest of him. It had been awhile since she had seen the Chesire Cat.

"Chessur, why have you come?" she asked softly, maintaining her grace and dignity as best she could.

"I have brought an old friend." Chess replied softly, pulling his paw back to review a sputtering rain soaked butterfly.

With a smile she held out her hands, taking Absolem within them and blowing on him. He was immediately soft and dry. He gave her a thankful look before fluttering up and landing on her shoulder. She smiled that even now, after all these years he was serious as could be.

"Now I must be off, Fairfarren all," the creature purred, vanishing in an instant.

The White Queen waited patiently, giving her servant time to compose himself and at length, he spoke.

"I have done as you asked," he said to her, although everyone could hear, "And I have taken the liberty of sending your White Knight out in search of the perpetrator of this crime."

"What crime is that?" she asked.

"Kidnapping, attempted murder," Absolem stated darkly, "The torture and purposeful misleading of a child. "

"A child?" the Queen exclaimed, "There is a new child in Underland?"

Absolem continued, "Not just a child. The son of Alice, _the _Alice."

The silence was deafening. She managed to contain her shock but just barely. Discreetly she turned her eyes to the Hatter where he stood. He had gone ramrod straight, a sort of broken look in his eyes echoed her assumptions. His Alice was gone. She felt for him, the loss he was feeling but the urgency of the matter was emphasized when another crash of thunder rang through the room.

"He was taken days ago. " the butterfly continued, "Snatched from right under his mother's nose by the Red Knave, Ilosovic Stayne."

This statement caused a commotion. The skies screaming their outrage, those assembled jumped to their feet. She reeled. The Red Knight, it was impossible. He was supposed to be banished, exiled to the horrors of the Outlands with her sister. Apparently death would have been a great deal more convenient for all concerned. One movement of her hand hushed the ramblings of those assembled and she focused her attentions once more on Absolem.

"The child?" she asked carefully, "His status, is he... alive?"

"Alive, I would know if he wasn't." the butterfly replied sharply.

"What is he like?" that was the Hatter.

Her eyes again drove her her friend. His hat was off and clutched to his chest as if he were using it as a shield. He looked upon her shoulder with the fear of one who had asked the truth but was too fearful to hear it.

"Much like his father in looks and humour," Absolem replied ominously, "With his mother's disposition and penchant for foolish stories and trouble. If he had not been stolen away to Underland I have no doubt he would have found his way here sooner rather then later."

The Hatter seemed to deflate before his eyes, shrinking back as if he had been chastised. She felt her heart ache for the poor man and began to feel the bubbling of regret. Had she not sent the woman away then perhaps Alice would have settled with them instead of creating a life outside of Underland. It was strange she had never considered it before. Children were so rare in their kingdom that they were a precious commodity. The last child she had ever lay eyes on was Alice herself and before that the only children there had been those who had died in the Jaberwocky attack. That was, in part, what had made the attack so brutal. In one fell swoop a generation had been destroyed. She could barely remember her own childhood, only that she had been younger then the rest. She had grown into her courtiers and even the Hatter, while significantly younger had been grown up quite a while when she was young. Strange to consider that in Alice's world children much be common place and Alice herself had born one. She was suddenly overcome with an intense desire to see this child. Despite the relative peace no human children had been born in Underland and it had been so long since she had seen a child, in addition she was much interested if the child was like his mother.

"What is his name?" she asked smoothly, "This child of Alice?"

"She calls him Charlie," Absolem stated amusedly, "A strange name in my opinion but he is an odd little child."

"Odd? How so?" the Queen asked.

Absolem paused for a moment, "You must understand my Queen things in that world are much different then they are here. There time passes and never stops, people have lots of rules. Thousands and thousands of rules for everything from growing up to having children. She had broken most of them. The child, he is a small child, is not able to follow them."

The Queen gave pause, turning to look at her friend with intensity in her dark eyes.

"Other humans shun the child, the only defender he has in the world is his mother and the only love she has in the world is her son." he continued, "Things will not bode well for her if he is not returned. I could see it in her eyes."

The ominous crash had them all looking around as the sky darkened to near black . A shiver ran down the White Queens spine as she looked over at her friends. This could end very badly for them all, especially Alice.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Again thanks so much to those who have reviewed you are super awesome. I am on March Break right now and hoping to get a lot of this written before I have to go back so wish me luck.**

The Sixth

The days bled together and time seemed to have lost all it's sense. She could tell they were feeding her something to dull her mind and weaken her senses during her waking hours. She had been allowed to stay in Charlie's bedroom after she had screamed a fit when she was almost moved but that small victory was the only one she could claim as of yet. Twice a day her mother would take her to the bathroom, bathe her and return her to her bed. Maids cared for her and her mother sat by her at night, acting more as a guard then a nursemaid. She looked well enough she supposed, as well as a woman could look in her under things, strapped to a bed with those bloody belts. She would have cut her hands off to free herself but the opportunity had yet to present itself. She felt it was a small blessing that she was not visible in the mirror that hung above her son's fireplace but it did offer a lovely view of the window across the room and the London sky. Her days were spent in a haze but her nights were far too clear., her only way to guage the passage of time was that small window and the rise and fall of the sun. Everyday around twilight medicine wore off and Alice found that if she kept quiet about it and fainted sleep no one realized that she coherent.

The room had been emptied of all things relating to her Charlie, the presents and curiosities they had acquired over the years had been packed away so as not to excite her. The books he usually left spread across the floor were tucked into their proper shelves much more neatly then either she or her son had managed. His note books, tens of them, were placed away in a neat pile by the small writing desk. The little raven figurine she had given to him so long ago, masterfully crafted from onyx sat atop the pile, staring at her. An inherited piece from her father's study she always had the feeling the thing was observing her more then it was simply sitting in it's place. There were times while she was tied down that she thought she could feel it judging her. Sadly, even Charlie's marble chess set had been cleaned up and placed upon the small table it was meant for. Charlie would be upset by that, he had been playing with the pieces, learning their moves and experimenting with tactics. Tears pricked Alice's eyes. The only thing of her boy that remained were the drawings and the India swords that had gifted to him by the Maha Raja when they had left the continent for home. She had been given a large black diamond, originally from Africa but gifted to the Indian Lord as a war payment. Charlie seemed to be more interested in her present then his own but then again he had been so little and always so curious. The diamond brought back more then one happy memory. She usually wore it around her throat when he was small, something for him to play with while she held him in her arms. Not it was wrapped around the curved handle of the swords mounted on the wall, her mother had obviously removed it from her neck and left it out, probably uninformed about it's true value. She wanted to smile as she recalled her son being so little, in her grasp and enthralled with the gem at her throat, making up stories about where it had come from and why it as black.

While he lacked friends and many of the things most parents would consider talents for young boys he was gifted with copious amounts of intelligence and creativity. The moment he had been old enough to speak she had placed a pen in his hand and taught him how to draw and write. Of course he had not been good at it when they started but with her as his tutor and the constant isolation had both contributed to her son's talents. Before he could write himself they would lie together upon the floor in front of the fire and make up stories. She would write them down for him and then they would read them later and laugh. She found the friend she had always wished for in her child and a kindred spirit to be sure. She understood the concern her family had, it probably was not health for a child to prefer the company of his mother to all others, yet she had never minded. She had preferred her father's company and his death had left a hole in her soul. A hole that only Charlie had been able to fill. So she had fostered his imagination, encouraged his creative endeavours and done everything she could to make him as accomplished as a child of six could be. And he was. Charlie loved nothing more then to write his stories and practice his letters but in those moments where his limited words confined him he would draw.

All upon the room were his creative endeavours. Drawing in crayons, charcoal, pen and water colours of every sort of strange creature his young mind could conceive of. Some looked vaguely familiar while others seemed to be totally new. Lately she had been focusing on the darker images. Some were of shadow men that seemed to rise from the grounds, some were so dark and black they seemed to seep across the page. Princesses, Queens, Knights and Kings were all around and one was of a figure holding a curved blade in each had that looked a great like the ones that hung on the wall. Creatures with bodies of lions and eagles winds flew upon pages while deer with huge antlers and sharp fangs raced across long sandy deserts. A Queen with a long black grown riding a raven swooped low, baring a sword to an unseen enemy. They were clumsy as a child's drawings were but they were real enough for her to recognize a world inside her child's head she could not see. In her darkest moments she would turn her attention to those drawings and reveal in them. She enjoyed every moment that they brought her and tried not to let them break her heart. More then anything the idea of losing them frightened her. They were all she had left of her child at this point.

She had no idea exactly how long her son had been missing, only that it had been awhile and no one had any idea where he was. Hector had told her mother once that the police were giving up their search, assuming the child had run off with its father or just by himself. She knew better but there was no way they could let her speak. The doctor had told them she should be medicated until at least the investigation had ended but Alice worried that he would extend the stay. It was well within his limits to have her declared criminally insane and she was frightened to think she was not sure whether or not he would. She would not put it past him. She had heard her mother and Hector saying the doctor had assured the police that Charlie had been mentally deranged to begin with and that the doctor's own son would attst to his classmate's instability.

The night had come once again and she found herself staring at the walls, her head turned to look at the strange drawings all around her. She wished she could reach out to touch them. She could see them in her minds eye, memories of holding Charlie in her lap in rich India, watching as he created twirling, whirling designs. Her constant introspection brought the sensation of guilt, a rather constant companion as of late. She had entertained the idea for such a long time. What would life have been like if she had decided to stay.

She had only discovered her pregnancy after she had returned, at first thinking it was merely heart break. She had tried to get back to her Wonderland so many times in those first few months and could not figure what was anchoring her. The second time had been accident, the third had been necessity but then it was as if the rabbit hole no longer existed and all gates were closed to her. She had lamented it scornfully, cursing the White Queen for sending her out into the world, for convincing her she had so much left to do when all she had wanted was to remain in the world her dreams had created. She had screamed to the heavens at the injustice that she had been locked away from her dreamland when the man she loved was still there. Her sadness and grief had been intense until she had discovered Charlie and subsequently a reason to carry on.

The moment she realized Wonderland was lost to her she had boarded a ship to begin her journeys, any attempt to get away from England and the memories she held there. Her hand servant, a young woman named Ashanti, had noted it and soon it was well discovered that she was with child. Where most women in her situation would have been devastated she was happy. While it was not an ideal arrangement if she were trapped in the real world this was one thing they could never take from her. She loved Tarrant. She had come to that realization a long time ago and the Queen's offer had merely been taken up as a means of saying good-bye to those in her past life. She could think of nothing better to do then live in Wonderland with her love and friends. But when Charlie came it changed her entire view. She had thought of waiting until he was a little older, old enough to talk, to walk to compose himself. The longer she waited the more anxious she became, she knew that in Wonderland he was a threat. There were no other children that she had seen and she had no lack of enemies. In addition, she could admit she was scared of seeing the Hatter again. One year, then two and three and finally five and six. Six years and she had not even attempted to go back. She lied to herself and Charlie, telling him they would go when he was older. That his father would love him. She had never mentioned who he was, what he did. Charlie saw his father as some wonderful idea and now would happen? Her son was not capable of taking care of himself and Tarrant might be mad enough to harm the boy.

No, she chastised herself, that would not happen.

Her romance with the Hatter had not been sudden or surprising but it had been short lived. The small time they had spent together should have been longer and he had showed her that the order and calm of Wonderland was reflected in his personality and mental state. If the balance of Wonderland was off then his mind was. If it was as it should be so was he. The more stable the environment the more stable the man. She had no idea how he was now but she could trust him to be kind unless provoked. He had been quite mad when she was small but he had treated her with a great deal of kindness and responsibility. When she was in his care no one had harmed her. He was a good man and that was the reason she had chosen him in the first place. He had been sweet and kind and even at his worst had been willing to give his life to protect hers. She had never regretted the time they had spent together, in fact over the years she had guarded it more closely then most women guarded their wedding vows.

Men came and asked for her hand quite often through the years. Margaret's prediction had been quite wrong and at twenty seven she was just as lovely as she had been at nineteen. Charlie was the reason for that, the happiness he had given her bolstered her spirit, her love for her son seemed to seep from her every pore, lighting her from the inside out. Still all those men had been sent home empty handed; many against both her mother and Hector's advice. In Alice's mind it made perfect sense, they were inconsequential and she was simply not interested in a single thing any of them had to offer. Her son had no inclination towards any of them and that would have been the deciding factor for any suitor who came calling. It didn't help he so closely resembled Tarrant, thankfully not to the point of people being concerned about his humanity but enough to make him a constant reminder of the one man who had loved her for who she was, no strings attached.

She felt the sobs begin and without shame she cried. She had lost everything, in an effort to keep her son safe she had lost him, in an effort to avoid hurting those she loved she had lost the one she loved the most. She was a rich, independent and completely miserable. She closed her eyes tightly trying to picture her son in Wonderland without her, lost in an endless tea party. Playing with his toys and being held high on the Hatter's shoulders. She let out a light laugh at that even as the sound was strangled by sobs. She would live her entire life without him, never to see him grow older, get married have children of his own. No the rest of her life would be spent alone and mundane, or tied down to this bed with only her memories to comfort her. She felt the dark depression of madness creeping up on her, life was pointless and painful. She let out another string of sobs, trying to control the volume in case her mother was alerted and decided to medicate her once again. Alone and empty was no way to live ones life.

"Now let's not be rash," an amused voice said softly.

Alice's eyes opened wide in alarm, her head tossing from side to side before she looked directly above her. There, staring back with greener then green eyes the Chesire cat hovered, twirling around over her, watching her.

"Chess?" she whispered in both hope and horror, "Oh no, have I gone mad?"

"Haha, hardly," the grey tabby replied as he looked at his claws, "I seem to recall you were well aquatinted with madness. Have you forgotten your time with us so quickly?"

She bit down on her lips and kept her sobs down. She tried not to look away from the cat above her, if she was truly losing her mind then at least it was familiar and she was not alone. In her silence he seemed to really take notice of her, his eyes roved over her and became a little wider as they crawled up her. By the time they met her own eyes she could see the pity and anger in them.

"What is this?' he asked curiously.

"These are restraints." Alice said softly, taking a few breaths to steady her voice, "After Charlie, Charlie's my son, after he was taken, a horrible doctor placed me in these. I can't even go look for him."

The cat seemed to hover over her, twirling for moment before looking at the room.

"Why wouldn't you simply wish them away?" the cat asked after a long moment.

She laughed bitterly, "Things work differently in this world Chess. Besides thing like that didn't even work in when we were in Wonderland."

"Perhaps they did and you didn't notice?" he asked smoothly, "Of course you were a child the first time and a little more then child the second time. You were drawn in then, the third time however..."

Alice's eyes widened and her crying ceased, "I went in. I chose to go."

The chesire cat smirked.

"How?" she demanded suddenly, "I must find Charlie. I must find the Hatter."

"Your son is not with the Tarrant" Chess replied cryptically, "I have come from the White Castle and he is neither seen nor heard there."

She froze again, her newly stopped tears welling up once more. The despair she had been fighting so vehemently threatened to overwhelm her once again. If he was not with Tarrant the situation was far worse then she had initially thought. He could be anywhere. She had never even considered the idea of an impostor.

"Then he is not in Wonderland," she lamented, "This world is so much larger then that one. With the amount of time I have lost I will never find him. He could be hurt and alone or even..."

She felt something at her wrists and turned her head to the side to see Chess bit down violently a the bindings. The metal loop that hooked them to the bed turned to ashes before her and her arm was free although still bound inside the leather strap. He vanished a moment and did the same to the other side. It hardly mattered, once her arms were free Alice did nothing but turn to her side and curl into a fetal position, her grief raw and exposed.

"I did not say he was not in Underland, only that he was not with the Hatter or in the White Castle," the cat said smoothly.

"If not there then where?" Alice sobbed, "I cannot loose him Chess, he is my heart and soul."

"You used to say such things of Tarrant," the cat responded, "Has he left your heart?"

"No," she shook her head, "But it has been a long time and my son has been there for all of it. Charlie is all I have left of Tarrant, things change, people change."

"You change Alice," Chess answered, 'We only change as you do. Now get ready and follow, your heart is lost in Underland and we must find it before we lose you as well."

She did not understand the statement but nodded, jumping to her feet unsteadily. She had forgotten it had been sometime since she had been allowed to stand on her own but stumbling around slightly she soon got the handle of walking once more. Looking down she realized that the only thing she had on were her under things. While incapacitated her mother had slipped her into a corset. It was nowhere near as tight as it could have been but without an ability to move into her own room and change she was trapped in it. The rest of her night clothes were merely the normal knee length skirt. Scanning the room she found her mother's wrap lying on a nearby chair and seized it, she was not willing to go into wonderland half dressed. She scrutinized the room more thoroughly, looking for anything that might come in handy.

Moving quickly she found a small bag that contained her son's collection of marbles. Dumping out most of the little glass balls she quickly began shoving objects she might need into the bag. She grabbed one of her son's empty sketch books, inks and pens in case he had run out. She also shoved in a few others things that he might need if they were not able to get out as quickly as she hoped. The chess set seemed appropriate, a few of his drawings, a jacket for him to wear in case he was chilled and a deck of playing cards. She nearly cried as she took the one photograph that had been done of him earlier in the year and closed the folding case before pressing it into the bag as well. Moving to the wall she reached out and took both the swords that hung there. They were meant for play but it was likely that if her son was kidnapped there might be more then one person trying to harm her. With Charlie in this business she was hardly ready or willing to take that risk. The vorpal blade was in the White Castle when last she left it and Alice was not willing to travel all that way without protection. Noting the black diamond necklace wrapped around the base of one of the blades she unwound it and then fasted it tightly around her throat.

"So he knows it's me," she explained to the cat staring at her curiously, "I am aware that more then one of the creatures in wonderland are capable of changing form."

The creature did have the decency to look slightly chastised.

Moving to the writing desk she snatched the raven from it's perch on her songs desk and tucked it into her bodice before finally looking at the cat then around the room once more.

"I am missing something. I must get it." she whispered.

"What is it?" was Chess' immediate reply as he vanished from his spot near the window and appeared next to her.

"The watch." Alice whispered softly, "I need the silver pocket watch."

"Certainly there are more important things?" the cat suggested but Alice shook her head.

"No, Tarrant entrusted it to me. I would be horrible to leave it behind." she replied, "Besides Charlie..."

The cat rolled his eyes. Literally.

"Charlie," Alice gasped suddenly, "I gave the watch to Charlie on the day he was to meet Hamish. The day he disappeared."  
"There you are," the cat replied hurriedly, "You shall find the watch when you find Charlie. Now come on we must go."

She was just about to nod her head when she heard the loud thump of a door closing shut and the sounds of foot steps in the hall. Her eyes widened in shock and she looked at Chess in panicked disarray as his for disappeared into vapour and mist leaving only the echo of, "hurry" upon the wind. Alice ran to the doorway and threw the door into place, quickly bolting it tight. From the hallway she could hear the telltale sound of footsteps quicken as her mother realized what was happening. Of course Alice was aware there was no way the woman could know the specifics but rather that her mentally unstable daughter had locked herself in her missing sons bedroom. She cursed the doctor for telling her mother she had tried to kill herself, suicide had never been an option however homicide was starting to take on a strong appeal.

"Alice!" her mother called through the door, "Alice you unlock this door right now!"

Alice ignored the cries instead turning to look for Chess. As per usual he had disappeared the moment the situation became even slightly threatening. She turned around the room a few times he appeared on the mantle above the fireplace. He grinned at her for a moment before pressing one grey paw to the mirror. Alice watched in wonder as the solid surface of the mirror bent and rippled before him as if it were a vertical pond of water. With short chuckle Chess turned and jumped through the looking glass, his form disappearing instantly. Looking at the mantle with new hope and ignoring the growing screams on the other side of the door Alice raced to her son's writing desk, nearly knocking it out of the way as she grasped the chair to it in her hands. No longer able to carry the swords she lashed them to her back with the colourful bands of their handles and pulled the chair to the fireplace, close enough so she could stand on it and crawl onto the all to narrow ledge. Thankful she had given Charlie Margaret's old room and not her own (for her fireplace was much larger) she hoisted herself to the chair, wincing as she felt the sharp part of the blade cut into the back of one of her calves. Deciding it should be dealt with after she arrived in wonderland Alice placed both her hands on the ledge of the mantle just as she heard the jingling of keys. Cursing loudly she used every ounce of strength to try and ease herself up. Being trapped in a bed for days on end had done nothing for her upper body strength and she felt her elbows fold with the strain. Tears of frustration sprung out of the corners of her eyes . Failure was so close and success was slipping away like grains of sound.

_Please_ Alice begged herself, _Please, I can do this. I can save Charlie ! I have to do this for Charlie!_

With strength she didn't know she had Alice hoisted herself upon the ledge, toppling over just as the door of the room burst open. When her mother came in all she found was an empty bed, a ransacked room and a small chair on the floor.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Again thanks so much for all the wonderful support it is completely and totally appreciated. **

The Seventh

The place where Mr. Stayne brought him was farther away then he had though it would bet and he had fallen asleep in the man's grasp as they had walked towards their destination. His father was not as he had ever imagined a father would be. His mother had always told him he resembled his father and that his father was a handsome man who loved him a great deal. None of those things seemed to be a right fit with Mr. Stayne. This man was really, really tall and had dark hair and one eye and dressed like the black Knight he had read about in this storybooks. He was nothing like Charlie had ever imagined his father would be. Still, he had the letter. The ravens had never gotten it wrong before and when they spoke to him Charlie could tell they were intelligent. Late at night, after his mother had gone to sleep they would come to his bedside and recite poems with him, teach him the things that only ravens would know and they would even give him old feathers to use for quills. They had always been able to find people he would ask about and were much more patient then the crows. If he had to pick a bird for his father he would say Mr. Stayne was a crow.

Mr Stayne did not seem to like him much. He did not talk alot and Charlie felt strange about filling the silence with his own prattle. Uncle Hector had always told him sometimes it was best to stay silent and he could see why. However he had never been silent with mother. He could talk to her about anything and everything. She would listen and gush and add her own flavour to the stories he would tell. She was always the Queen in his stories, or the princess that needed saving. In fact whenever he thought of a Queen he pictured her as his mother.

Mr Stayne carried him to a small little wooden house, really nothing more then a shack. Charlie tilted his head. He had seen such houses when he and his mother had gone to Africa and they had made trade negotiations with a local tribe. Of course those shacks had been made of much and wood and the young boys there had explained that they were only used for sleeping. Staying indoors in the sweltering heat was a silly thing to do. Here it seemed that people were living in the strange slanted wooden house. It had holes in the ceiling and he could see at least three broken window panes. As he was carried by he saw a pile of black feathers and began breathing heavier. His father was a murderer it seemed. He decided remaining silent was indeed, the best thing to do.

Unable to move he was brought through a door Mr. Stayne had to bend down to enter. This first room was smallish, featuring nothing more then a crumbling fireplace with a small fire glowing, an old table and two chairs with the padding sticking out at odd angles and a narrow ledge along the window that could have once been a seat. The door slammed although it hardly mattered since Charlie could see it did not fit in the door frame.

"Iracebeth!" his father bellowed so loudly that Charlie jumped in his arms.

Charlie watched as a small figure emerged from the room. She looked to be about the same size in height as his mother was, perhaps slightly smaller but her head, it was large for her body. Her skin was very white, whiter then even his own and her hair was the darkest red he had ever seen. It messy and pulled back to roughly, tucked under a thin brown kerchief she seemed to have wrapped around her very large head. The rest of her was dressed simply. She was wearing a long brown working shirt he had seen servants wear when going to work in the gardens that had a rope tied around it to secure her waist, her mouth and eyes were dull as she stalked out of the room tiredly. She looked up at them and her eyes grew wide upon seeing him.

"Oh my, that's... that's..." she pointed a small hand at him, fingers extended.

"My son," his father stated coldly, "Come to live with us here."

The woman's mouth shut instantly and Charlie could see pain in her eyes. He had known that feeling, it was the same one he got when the boys at school called him names. She looked down towards the floor before looking up at his father nodding. He startled to find he was being dumped to the ground rather suddenly. He stumbled so much that he ended up toppling into the big headed woman's arms. She caught him more out of instinct then actual care while his father seem to dust himself off and stare at the two of them.

"I am going to go find something to eat. Take care of the boy Iracebeth, " he snapped before turning on his heel and storming out.

Charlie could only watch as Mr. Stayne left, heading out into the night and leaving him alone in the small hut. The moment the man was out of sight the woman moved away form him, not harshly but enough to show that she did not care for her duties or the idea she was to be his maid. Charlie said nothing, the woman looked like a peasant but did not act like one. He could see it in the way she moved towards the fire and how she was unsure when she lifted the large iron bucket towards the flame. He immediately ran towards her out of fear she might harm herself accidently or drop the bucket but she did not. She just eased it onto the hook and rubbed her hands over her already dirty clothes, all the while saying nothing. It didn't matter, all he could focus on was the redness of her hair in the firelight.

" I like your hair," he ventured, speaking in a soft shy voice.

The woman whirled around, an angry look painted on her face before she could see that he was indeed earnest. She paused for a moment, her lips working into a slightly, tentative smile before she shook her head.

"No you don't, it's a mess." she replied, turning back to the fire.

"I like it a mess." Charlie answered, "My hair's a mess but it's not as fine one as yours is."

"Well I was once a Queen you know." she replied, raising her chin a little before lowering her head again, "I am sad to say I was a bad one. Although I didn't know that at the time."

"Time is funny that way." Charlie said, growing a little bolder and approaching one of the wooden chairs, "You can only really see something 'at the time' when you look behind you. I think that's really odd."

She turned to him again, this time with a real smile, "You are a strange little boy aren't you?"  
Charlie smiled, running his hands over his own messy hair, "The boys at school say so. They don't like me much. They think my hair is ugly and my eyes are strange and that I might be mad. Do you think I'm mad?"

"Hardly." the Queen replied dismissively, then asked uncertainly "Do you think I'm pretty?"  
"Yes." Charlie answered instantly, "I would very much like to draw you. Most people I draw are boring, but you wouldn't be."

She seemed to blush a little below her white skin and smile at him kindly.

"I like to draw my Mummy," he added softly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his book, "This is a picture I drew of her here. Her name is Alice."

A look passed over the red Queen's face but Charlie missed it. The woman took the book from his hands and ran her own fingers over the pages, he could see her concentrating.

"I knew your mother once, she told me her name was Um," the Queen said softly, "In the end she killed my Jabberwocky."

Charlie's eyes widened and he back away, afraid now of what this woman would do to him.

"It's all right," she said softly, holding his book out towards him, "I am not going to hurt you although I would have had your head a few years ago."

With the way she said it Charlie was sure she wasn't joking.

"Exile changes the way you think about things. All the anger and energy I used to feel seems to have drained out of me. I haven't had a single person to talk to in nearly seven years." she said sadly, "If I were to try and kill you who knows when someone else would come along."

"What about my father, he lives here doesn't he? He talks to you."

She turned away, suddenly not talking. Not wanting to bother her he took the time to look around. The room was small but suited to someone of his height. He looked up and could see the sky through the roof and just as he did a loud crack of thunder bellowed and he felt the cool chill of water fall upon him. Scrambling away form the holes he moved towards the fire, noticing as the Queen seemed to smile and rush forward with a large bucket. She roughly shoved the thing in the place where he had once been and smiled as the rain hit it.

"Fresh water without a well," she grinned, "We shall be able to have a proper bath, you could use one."

Charlie grinned at her pleasantly, pleased that she was pleased.

"I bear your mother no ill will, not anymore," the Queen stated suddenly, "Everyone does things in war they regret."

Not knowing what else to do Charlie nodded. The woman seemed to take that well enough and moved to the fire again, tending the pot. Charlie amused himself with his notebook. Pulling up a seat near the fire to warm his wet clothes. While shivering he tried to concentrate on not thinking about his mother at home without him.

"Come here boy," the Queen demanded suddenly.

Charlie jumped at the order and was at her side in an instant. She looked him up and down imperiously before glaring at him.

"You are wet." it was a bland statement and not at all a pleasant one, "Here, change out of those clothes and wrap yourself in this."

She had undone the kerchief around her head and thrown it to him. He looked at it and realized it was actually quite large. With very little shame Charlie took off the wet clothes, leaving only his shirt and under shorts before wrapping the blanket around himself tightly. She moved to him, bending down to retrieve the dripping clothes in her hands. Moving to the door she stood outside and wrung them out quickly before bolting the door into place and placing them over a small bar that swung out from the fireplace.

"There you are," she replied, with a sort of mock cruelness she did not seem to posses. "No need to freeze to death."

"Thank you," Charlie replied, pulling the blanket tighter.

She didn't reply but nod softly. Charlie got the feeling she was trying not to be nice, regardless he tried his hardest to stay warm. He did not get sick often but when he did it was horrible. No medicine ever helped and he always felt so tired but when he slept he had the strangest dreams. His mother always slept next to him on those nights, not caring if he got her sick. She said she wanted to be there if he had any nightmare so she could chase them away. The sudden thought of his mother brought forth and almost unbearable sadness and before he could stop himself Charlie let out a sniffle, then a sob. Within moments he was crying and trying to keep as quiet as possible while doing it. He failed miserably.

"Boy, why are you crying?" the woman demanded sharply.

Charlie wiped his face quickly, trying to banish the tears before simply looking at the woman.

"I miss my mother," he sobbed softly.

"Oh is that all?" she replied with a dismissive hand, "Well that's a silly reason to cry."

Charlie sniffled, "Don't you ever miss your mother?"

The woman seemed to pause for a moment before looking at him with her dark eyes. She tilted her head and then turned her attention to the window panes and the storm howling outside.

"I suppose so. I haven't thought of my mother and father in some time." she said in an conversational tone, "They were a King and Queen you know."

Charlie stopped crying, interested in the story, "Of what?"

The woman smiled softly, "All of Underland. Very powerful, both of them. It was a fine marriage and the people celebrated their rein for over a thousand years."

"A thousand years?" Charlie gasped, it was hard of him to conceive such a long time.

"Why yes," the woman replied, taking a chair sitting across from him, "In that time there were more then two Kingdoms in Underland, there were four. The Kingdom of Snub, The Land of Crims, The Dominion of Marmoreal and the Nation of Queast. My father was called King Mirtingivale and he was the ruler of Crims, my mother was Queen Iranailly of Mormoreal. They met when my father attempted to cease power of all of Underland. "

Charlie inched his chair closer, his green eyes wide with interest as the woman seemed to become more alive with each word.

"He had defeated all the other Kingdoms and then set his sights on Mormoreal but when his armies arrived they found not a soul in the court save for the Queen. There was my mother, sitting on her throne quite bored with the entire arrangement. She was simply sitting there." the Queen continued amusedly, "So my father demanded that she surrender to him. She didn't even look at him as he spoke and told him that there was a room already made up for him in the castle should he and his soldiers need to rest. She was retiring to bed and they would talk the next day. Completely confused and worn out form all his warring he listened and went to sleep. The same thing happened for the next three months and soon my father was running his own country from the throne room of Mormoreal. Everyday my mother would meet him in the throne room and discuss her surrender and every night she would send him to bed. Finally one day he offered her HIS surrender on one condition, she would marry him. She agreed and together they reined Underland."

"That's a nice story," Charlie smiled, inching even closer to the red haired woman, "What happened to them, do you still see your Mummy and Daddy?"

"No," she replied softly, her eyes turning downcast, "They disappeared a long time ago after they gave my sister and I our Kingdoms. I received my father's Kingdom and my sister Mirana received my mother's Kingdom. Sadly my father's crown cannot be worn by a daughter so my King wore my crown. Mirana was allowed my mother's."

She paused in her story as Charlie slipped down from his chair. Moving towards her he climbed up along her chair and slipped himself into her lap. She seemed rather shocked at the movement but he did was tired and missed his mother greatly. After a few moments he felt her tension slip away as she continued her story.

"My Kin g left me you know, or he was going to." she whispered to him, "The worst part is I never got the crown off of him. I tried, or rather Mr. Stayne tried. It wouldn't budge, so I took my sister's crown and everything that went with it. Do you have a sister?"

Her question was left unanswered as she looked down to see Charlie fast asleep. Sighing and unable to process what was happening she simply lifted the child and carried him to her bed. She could sleep in the chair for one night.

Iracebeth of Crims had been in exile for sometime and she was sad to say she was no longer popular enough to be choosy and that any company was welcome. It was hard for her, or at least it had been at first. The loss of the Kingdom, the betrayal of Ilosovic Stayne and finally his admission- that he was the son of her late husband. It was about the second time that he backhanded her that Iracebeth, the Red Queen felt it was time to re evaluate her life. In time, quite some time, it became apparent to her that if she had been wrong about Stayne she had probably been wrong about more then just that one thing. Her cruelty amazed even her at times and being brought down to the lowest possible station had given her a greater appreciation for those higher up. Of course all these discoveries were made in her own mind as Mirana's punishment still stood, in seven years she had not spoken to a single person save for Ilosovic. Also, rather sadly, they both realized that Mirana's command was not bound by shackles but rather by very powerful magic. Stayne could roam as far as he wished but he must return to her. The longer he prolonged it the more pain he suffered. He could manage a night as long as he was near her within the next twelve hours but she could not recall him going any further then that. He had tried, oh how had he tried, and whenever he was done trying she would gather him up, drag him inside as best she could and nurse him back to health. However as of late that had changed and he could spend longer and longer stretches of time away form her, she did not question it as it was the most desirable outcome and more then she had ever allowed herself to hope for before.

She was well aware of his temper and had been on the receiving end of it a far too many times. There were nights, when she lay in her bed, alone and frightened, wondering whether Mirana had known of Stayne's true nature or if that itself was part of her punishment. However there were other nights, nights when the Red Knave could not find another bed to warm, where she remembered why she loved him so. She did love him, she knew that. When she saw him her heart still skipped a beat, when he made a demand of her she followed it through without ever questioning it. Her own husband had never excited her in such a way, then again she had chosen him for his political alliances not his beauty. He had served his purpose well enough and she had served hers until the thought of his betrayal prompted her to demand his head. He was a frightfully lazy thing anyhow and not much missed. No, Stayne was a much more passionate man but passions ran both ways, in every extreme. She had enjoyed his ardour and feared his disdain, it was part of the reason why she was gone along with whatever plot this was the moment he had shown up and dropped a child in his arms.

The boy had said that Stayne was his father but anyone with eyes could see that was a lie. When she was a child she could remember the Hightopp clan at her parents court, not just the Mad Hatter but also his parents, his cousins and so on. All of the Hightopps, be it children or grandparents ,bore the same brilliant orange hair and those eerie eyes not to mention the eccentricities. The family was prone to madness, courted it themselves in some cases. It had been so long since anyone had realized whether it was the cause or effect of their trade, all anyone knew was that every single one of them was a master of the trade they chose and they always chose effectively. Of course most were Hatters, but there had been dressmakers, shoe cobblers, room designers, she could name off a hundred ideas. The moment the child looked at her with those eyes she just _knew_. The child was so small and unsure, Stayne had obviously mislead him and for a novel moment Iracebeth disdained her lover thoroughly. While she was killed hundreds she had never once laid hands on a child, not directly. It was the one crime in Underland that eclipsed all others, children were precious and guarded for their rarity. No one in Underland would ever risk a child the way Stayne was doing and she felt a betrayal she had not felt before.

Regardless of her own feelings in the matter he was a dangerous man and she knew enough not to tell the child the truth. Especially after he had been dumped at her door, so to speak. Looking upon him now, sleeping tightly in her own bed, she felt her heart ache a little. She had never considered becoming a mother, power was to precious and she could not risk her own issue rushing forth to snatch hers the way she had from her father, but to see a child now the notion had a certain appeal. She had been utterly shocked when he had climbed into her lap, a thumb pressed into his mouth and his Hightopp curls tickling her nose. She had been amazed that her first instinct had not been to throw the boy off but rather draw him close. Plus she had taken off her head wrap to give to the boy as a blanket, utterly unheard of.

She had been making an effort to be a better person, she was sure something was changing inside her, yet she had not seen evidence of it until now. She smirked to herself as she went to the fire to tend the soup. She had become quite adept at making due with what they had, with gardening and cooking from a fire-pit and seeing opportunities. Tomorrow she would heat the rainwater and then given the boy a bath. A brighter smile came upon her face and she clapped her hands together. She WAS different. She noted that it must be the child, she had heard children were magical that way and able to worm their way into people's hearts. She didn't know why Um had let the child out of her sight for even a moment but Iracebeth found this must be an opportunity. If Um could not care for her child then she could, at least for a time. Perhaps this was part of her redemption and starting with this one child she could start her rise to the Red Throne once more .


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Again thanks to all who are sticking it with me through my long journey. I have decided to go in a slightly different direction with this story so if in future chapters things get a little odd please bear with me, I do have a plan. This is actually the second of a trilogy of stories along this arch that I have planned out so hopefully by summer I will have posted all of this one and at least one of the other two. Anyhow updates and going to be getting a little slower because today is the second last day of March break but I promise not to abandon this if you stick with me. Anyway, all the best and thanks for all the wonderful feedback.**

The Eighth

She could not recall the fall only that it was not at all like the last time. When she had fallen into Wonderland the first time she had been enamoured at first but later almost hyperaware of what was happening to her. The world had been magical and strange and she had memorized every moment of it as it happened. The second time was a reawakening, a rebirth in Wonderland and the greatest adventure of her life. The third time she barely had any memory of it at all and she had tried her best to put that from her mind. Instead she remembered waking up in the White Queen's castle in Marmoreal with the Hatter sleeping in a chair at her bedside. This time was much different. As she had toppled through the mirror in her son's bedroom she could only feel the strange vertigo of being flipped upside down over and over again until she thought she was going to throw up. Every moment she was twisted and thrown she felt the violence of the last few days fall upon her. She would have screamed but there was no air in the place she was being shunted through and when at last, when she thought she could not take another moment, she landed on the ground so hard the wind and her senses were knocked out of her.

When Alice woke a time later with no idea where she was, the day had passed, she was sure of that because the sky was darker then she could remember it being before but her awareness ended at that. She knew was laying on a cold stone slab, that there was a strange pain in her ribs and more worrisome, a wet sensation running through her side. She moaned lightly as she attempting to straighten out her body before she realized that she was lying in a dark pool and that it had already soaked through her dress and up her legs. Terrified she was bleeding out on the floor she took control of the adrenaline rush and used the energy to shove herself into a sitting position. She immediately regretted the action as the pain in her ribs reached a crescendo and the pain in her head rose up to match.

It was not blood on the floor but rather a large dark pool of what she discovered to be ink. She had landed on the bag she had brought and crushed her son's black ink bottle. Sighing to herself, she reached into the sack and pulled out everything she could. The Notebook was salvageable but the inkwell itself had had time to spread to the chess set. All of the pieces were stained a dark black, the outside of her picture frame was coated with the black substance, although the picture itself was intact. Sighing at her now blackened fingers and hands she placed the book into the bag again. The ink had mostly dried anyhow and it could no longer damage anything, as long as the book was bound shut. That small crisis dealt with she allowed herself a reflective movement, leaning against a stone wall she took in her surroundings.

It was very dark and it seemed like she was in a hall of sorts. It must have been lovely in its time but now the wallpaper was tattered and torn, damaged by exposure to the elements and bubbled with the water that seemed to be running in free rivets down the stone. Her eyes followed the walls to a large window and beyond it a world of rain. Gently she turned her head, wincing at the pain involved in such a minor action. The hallway she was in was long and looked as if it had once beautiful but the tapestries had long since burned off the stone walls, parts of it were obviously falling away, and the place had been left to rot. She looked to the windows again, the glass that had once been there was long gone but she could still see its remnants in the form of long jagged teeth that still sat the the frames. She wondered what would have caused every window to be broken and even the carpets to burned. Sighing loudly she pushed herself to her feet, nearly toppling over when a sharp pain echoed through her side. Pulling her hand away she could only see black, the darkness of the ink all over her dress. Looking around her eyes caught a large object mounted again the wall, undisturbed by the malevolence around it.

Cautiously Alice approached the thing, with the same uncertainly everything in Wonderland seemed to hold in it's very bones. Moving smoothly she stepped in front of it and drew back a still hanging curtain to see that it was a very large mirror. She marvelled at it for a moment, it had been a long while since she had seen one of this scale. There were few full length mirrors in her home in London but many smaller ones about the rooms, the largest of these being in the entrance hallway where one could ensure ones proper appearance before exiting onto the street. However this mirror dwarfed all those of her previous acquaintance. Alice found she had to crane her neck upwards to see the top of it that was lost in the dark recesses of the hallway ceiling. If she extended her arms she could not touch the sides of it but see her entire form stretch to its full width. She stopped for a moment and looked at the thing critically. Unless her eyes were deceiving her the mirror was actually stretching with her but she decided it wasn't worth taxing her limited energy supply to discover if this was the case or not.

The strangest idea popped into Alice's mind and she realized that while she was playing with the mirror she had yet to actually look at herself within it. Now her eyes were draw to her reflection and she grimaced at the woman staring back at her. The Alice in the mirror was not the Alice she had known her entire life. The reflection had to many 'fars' for Alice's liking.

This woman was far too thin, with long wet blonde hair that hung lankly across her far too pale face. The black diamond necklace looked far to large for her thin neck to support and she tucked it into the bodice of her dress, noting that the onyx raven had made the journey in tact. There were dark bags under her eyes which seemed to make her eyes look even darker and more foreboding then they normally would be. She could see her entire body was covered with scratches from her neck to her legs (she assumed it was from being thrown out of the mirror across the hall) ending with a long,angry, red gash that encircled her left leg. Upon her wrists she could still see the leather belts. The chains that led from them had been broken at the bed but a few rungs remained, making her look more like an escaped prisoner then a past hero. She raised her wrists to her own eyes, wincing as she could see the skin rubbed red and raw beneath them and in some areas had started to bleed. Finally her eyes fell to her dress. She could not assume her mother dressed her in the corset because her weight loss made most of her normal dresses obscenely large (an indication to Alice just how long she had been in a drug induced haze). She would have to wait for someone who had fingers to help her get out of the constricting nightmare. The skirt beneath it was nothing more then a cotton slip that fell to her knees. All of it should have been white but landing on the ink bottle had painted nearly half of it black. The parts that weren't a murky stained grey were getting there as water coming in through the windows hit the dress causing the ink to bleed. Alice sighed, only in wonderland could one bottle of spilled ink seep everywhere, even now she could see it running down her legs and leaving marks upon the floor.

Suddenly her eyes shot up. Her reflection was staring back at her, hands on hips giving her an impatient look. Intrigued Alice neared the mirror Alice, watching as the woman seemed more annoyed at her reticence then anything else. Mirror Alice lifted her hand, motioning to the mirror where the reflection of the hallway seemed to sway for a moment before shimmering into a window of her son's room. There she could see her mother, pacing the room looking rather worried. The doctor was there as well and she could make him out, yelling at nearby police that had swarmed into Charlie's sanctuary. She could only watch helplessly as the men began to ransack the place, tearing the drawings down and overturning furniture.

"Stop, STOP," Alice cried, banging against the mirror with the hopes of calling their attention.

"They can't see you, you know," her reflection stated smugly, "Well they could if they believed they could but we know that most people don't believe mirrors are windows."

"So they can't hear me?" Alice sighed in defeat, "Then why are you showing me this?"

Mirror Alice raised an eyebrow skeptically, " I am you, if you're seeing this then it's because YOU want to see it. Besides, they can't hear US. We know how mirrors work but they don't and so they won't. In order for things to work in Wonderland you have to believe they will, sadly most people in the real world don't believe in much of anything they can't explain with their science."

"But if they don't believe in it Wonderland how does it exist?" she asked herself.

Mirror Alice smirked as the world around her faded and she took her proper spot in front of the other Alice, "We believe in it and as long as we will it to exist it will exist."

The White Queen bit her lip as inconspicuously as possible. Her table was fully assembled and she was not please to note that the Hatter's sewing room had become a war room, not for any other reason then he had the largest tables in the castle, but the connotation of it did not bode well. Her concern for her friend was palpable as he had not been doing well the past few days. Tarrant was as strange and unpredictable as all the Hightopps were but he had been getting better. Even since the death of his clan on that horrible day he had being getting better. She knew the reason for his state was Alice, her friend was like a gauge to the girl's emotional state. When she was away from Wonderland and peaceful Tarrant was himself, not quite sane but not violently mad. The closer Alice came to Wonderland and the more upset she was the stranger her friend became, his emotions came to life in vibrant extremes. When he was happy he became ecstatic, when he was upset he was devastated. The last few days had been punctuated with extreme depression and outburst, the lingering taste of madness still hung in the air over them punctuating in the fact there were dozens upon dozens of freshly made has in the. Sitting at the head of the table he was without his hat, his green eyes focused on the table itself as those around him prattled on. The March Hare and the Dormouse had tried their best to help the situation, staying with him at all times and taking him along with them anywhere they could get him to go but she could see it now, something was wrong with Alice and because of it something was wrong with Tarrant.

Her eyes drifted to the others. Fairhaven, her white Knight, sat to her left looking rather proud of himself. He was a strange, pretty creature, the newest incarnation of the White Knight and very much like the last Fairhaven who had fallen prey to the Jabberwocky. Nothing that died in Wonderland stayed dead for long if it possessed the will to survive. He had appeared just after Alice had left their world and had immediately entered her service. She had never questioned him about where he had been or where he had come from (one did not do such things) and instead accepted it as a gift from a healing land to its new Queen. Her other subjects had returned as well but not that many and certainly not the children. The knight turned to her, his eyes a frightening ice blue on his chiselled pale face and his long white blonde hair tied back at the nape of his neck. She nodded slowly and he rose, stepping to the front of the table the Tweedles unrolled a long map of Wonderland.

"At Absolem's insistence I tracked Ilosovic Stayne here," he snapped, pointing at the gate at Witzend, "I do not know how he was able to discover an entryway to the Aboveland but he made use of it. I was not able to achieve visual confirmation as the Knave moves quickly however up to a point there were two sets of tracks, one lengthy which we can assume belongs to Stayne and another short and uneven, I would expect those to belong to a child."

Everyone leaned closer as the Knight drew his finger across the map.

"From the pace they were rushing to the Outlands, therefore I would assume your spell is in tact my Lady," he stated to her, the White Queen nodded, "However, it has become apart that the magic binding him to the once Red Queen has weakened."

That caused a murmur to run through the crowd.

"What could weaken the White Queen's magic in Wonderland?" Mallymkun asked loudly, her brashness belaying her size, "There is only one Queen."

Mirana again was lost in thought as a dark idea worked its way into her mind. She dismissed it, unwilling to think it over for even a moment. However it was Absolem that seemed to share the thought and voice it.

"It's a question of balance." the wise voice echoed through the room, "Underland is a balancing act, all things in perfect balance. The Red Queen's power was not possessed in the crown just as the White Queen's power was not possessed in her crown either. When the Red Queen was won over and the Jabberwocky was killed the balance of power shifted. The White Queen retained her crown but it is only a symbol, the power was with her majesty all along it was just more pronounced now, she now had the means to channel it. The Red Queen's powers were much the same and even in exile she possess the same magic granted to her as she did when she ruled, it is just locked away now."

All nodded, it made a half bit of sense which was about all one could hope for in their situation.

"However something else has happened, another power has started to concentrate in Wonderland." Absolem stated.

"Alice?" Mollymkum suggested darkly

"No, Alice is a champion of Wonderland and remains so. She has a place here, or at least she did once." he muttered cryptically, "But it has changed. Alice has changed as the years went by, her power has changed but more so there is something else, or rather someone else."

"The boy?" Mirana whispered softly.

Absolem nodded his head, "The child is different, without a precedent in our world and right now his power is untapped and uncontrolled. Everyone in our world has a place and without a place..."

"Everything falls out of it's place," Chess finished, appeared before the assembly and twisting into the air, "It is truth and it must be for Alice is out of her place as well. It is to be expect all things considered, she is closest to the child."

"The child?" Tarrant whispered once more,his eyes finally turning to meet everyone else's.

"Yes Tarrant," Absolem sighed, "We are talking about the child, Alice's child."

"Alice? In Underland, preposterous," he replied with a high, queer laugh, "No, no, he isn't here. I would know if he was here and he certainly is not here."

No one said a word, Mirana let out a sigh and motioned for the conversation to continue.

"The boy is dangerous to all," Absolem continued, "and he doesn't know what he is which means he could be anything."

"Then we are agreed, we must find the boy!" The Hatter exclaimed as if he had been behind the intention all along, "Where do we find him?"

"We have to find Alice," Absolem stated, "She will know where the boy is."

"How would she know?" Mallymkun snipped, "She didn't even know if she was the Alice when she first came here and she didn't even remember why she came the second time."

"Because mother's are different. Alice is no longer just an Alice, she is a mother now. Mother's know where their children are." Absolem replied.

"That makes no sense," the Hatter snapped angrily, jumping to his feet and storming about the room, taking rolls of fabric and dropping them to the floor, "Alice as a mother? Nonsense, Alice is an Alice, Mothers are mothers. The two are very different things!"

"Hatter.." The White Queen whispered gently.

"It's Mad!" he raved in an accent so thick she could not make it out, "Mad. Horrid temperamental things, Mothers, Monsters, coming back and spreading lies, about blackness in the blood and losing little boys as if they were time..."

"HATTER!" she cried, drawing his attention.

His orange eyes rounded on her sharp and dangerous before fading back immediately. He looked at her with a sort of helpless sadness before lowering his head.

"I'm sorry," he whispered softly, "I'm fine."

She highly doubted it but said nothing, merely nodding at him. Her eyes roving to where the others were sitting and well aware that they were all thinking the same thing. He returned to his seat sheepishly, his eyes focused now on the White Knight.

"Well then, " Fairhaven stated turning to look at the Queen and Absolem, "If Lady Alice can find the boy then I must find the fair Lady Alice."

"Damn ye, ye fair skinned dog," a growl emerged from the other side of the table, "Damn ye and Damn her. You'll lay not a finger on her."

Mirana tried her best to ignore it and simply turned to a non pulsed Fairhaven.

"Very well, you shall take a small party and search out our Champion. Where would one find her?" she asked softly, her head turning slightly to look at the Chesire Cat.

"I advised her to travel through the looking glass," The Cat shrugged, as if he had very little to do with this entire situation, "Where she went from there was hardly any of my business."

"Oh dear," The White Queen sighed, looking at those around her.

The Looking Glasses were the least reliable means of getting to Underland. While they were the most common place no one could ever truly anticipate whereabouts a looking glass would lead. If they were lucky Alice would have been dropped out near Marmoreal but honestly she thought not. There were other places where the girl had felt a greater connection to and only a few Looking glass mirrors in the Kingdom that could be used to transport a full grown woman. She moved towards the map and looking it over.

"We can narrow it down a bit, let's see." she smiled, trying to look a great deal more confident then she felt, "There

are only a few places Alice has been in Underland and she must feel a connection to it in order to pass through the Looking Glass there. Now she is not here, therefore I don't think she came to the White Castle."

"There are no mirrors near the Room of Doors." Absolem replied softly, "I abhor them."

She nodded and moved her fingers along the way and turned to the Hare and Hatter, "The Tugley wood?"  
"No Mirrors!" the Hare Screamed, laughing hysterically.

"No we don't keep mirrors. They are for looking at ones self at and we mostly look at one another." the Hatter answered happily.

She nodded and moved along her finger stopping at the last place she knew for certain possessed a Looking Glass Mirror, her heart stopped in her throat as she looked at those assembled.

"Knight, take a small group and go as fast as you can. Bayard please go as well you know the way better then anyone." she smiled.

"I will go as well your majesty," a voice offered.

Mirana turned her head to face the hopeful eyes of her Hatter and with a gentle smile she shook her head, "No Hatter. I'm afraid I need you here or else my castle remains undefended."

It was a poor lie, she knew it as well as everyone else in the room. She wanted as the Hatter seemed to argue with himself before rushing to his feet and storming from the room. No one else said a word as she waved her hands, dismissing those around them and watched as all but the White Knight left. Once alone in his presence she moved to stand near him, looking merely for his support.

Fairhaven had been her most loyal subject since his return and in that time had quickly made himself indispensable. She herself was unaware of what she would possibly do should something happen to him again. Now, wiser and older, her friends were dearer to her then they had been in her youth. The war with her sister had taught her not to take anything for granted, loyalties most of all. Her friends who had stood by her were precious but Fairhaven more so. He had died in her service once and had eagerly returned to her more then willing to die again in her name. That level of devotion was not to be taken for granted

"My Queen, we shall not fail you," he started but she stopped him with a motion.

"Fairhaven, I have every confidence in you, take as many men as you can and bring her back here, safe and sound." she smiled, reaching up and letting him take her hand.

The knight pressed a kiss to her palm before looking back her her with utter devotion, the kind that made her heart skip a beat, "Come now my Lady, I can see through your words just as well as I could years before. I fear leaving you here on your own, the Hatter's madness is spreading and my concerns do not dwell with this Alice but rather leaving you."

She sighed, "The for my benefit you will follow my commands?"

He had the grace enough to look shocked she would even pose such a question to him and he stared at her agape.

"Of course my Queen, I am bound to you," he replied "I would throw myself into the gates of the Abyss itself should you command it so."

Breathing a sigh of relief and granting him a smile she nodded serenely.

"Thank you dear Knight, I was wrong to have doubted you." she smiled then took on a more serious note, "Now, I must ask you, what do you know of Alice's last visit to Underland?"


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Again thanks to everyone for all the support. I really do appreciate it. I do apologize for the typos I am trying to get them all squared up but they do tend to slip by. Thanks for being so forgiving. All the best.**

The Ninth

Alice wrapped a bolt of fabric around herself, attempting to keep warm and avoid of the downpour that threatened to overtake the whole of Wonderland and more specifically the room in which she had sought shelter. It had been raining since she had arrived last night and by the time she had realized she was in the Red Queen's Fortress the main concern had not been finding Chess or Charlie but rather a safe place to sleep and wait out the storm. Almost the entire castle was flooded as the Crimson sea had risen up to meet the torrential rains, the weakness in her limbs and the heaviness in her heart were holding her down, making it difficult for her to focus on anything other then basic survival. The drugs, while soon to be out of her system, had done absolutely nothing for her endurance. She was weak, tired and had not eaten properly in days. In her desperation to find her son almost every other aspect of her own well being had been pushed aside, and now she was suffering for it. Leaning with her back against the wall in what had once been the Hatter's work room, (both the swords she had brought within quick reach) she pulled her knees to her chin and let her head rest against them.

Four times she had come to Wonderland and each time had been worse then the last. The first time she was only a girl, the second time at nineteen, the third time... oh the third time. Alice closed her eyes tightly, biting down on her lip and trying her hardest not to remember. She had only been twenty at the time, just about to embark on her first expedition with Hector and enamoured with life in general. She had not meant to see Lowell with the scullery maid and stupidly she had spoken up without a single thought to the reprisal she was sure to receive. She had been so innocent then, brash and unafraid of a man who had been caught in the act of adultery. Apparently drunken men were a great deal more dangerous then a raging Jabberwocky and even less prone to reason. She had had no vorpal blade when Lowell had caught her in the gardens and she could do nothing but claw and scratch as his vicious hands snapped and groped at her in ways she had tried for years to forget. Finally, when it became clear she was not going to submit to him without a fight, he had merely grabbed her by the neck and plunged her shoulder deep into the fountain on the Ascot grounds. Had Hector not found them, had that butler not heard her screams, well she shuddered to think of what could have happened. They had grabbed Lowell before he had successfully drowned her but she had toppled into the fountain with nothing more then a desperate wish to be anywhere but where she was at that moment. No one had ever bothered explaining to her mother how her body had disappeared from the fountain that night. No one had ever asked her where she had gone, especially after Lowell confessed to his actions, believing she was the one testifying against him. Margaret had never forgiven her for outing Lowell and despite everything her sister had stood by her husband, forcing a rift in the family. Neither Margaret nor Lowell had ever seen Charlie and they never would if she had her way. While she had survived the encounter and become stronger because of it and it had changed her. She no longer jumped into things blindly if she could help it, ever since that night she had taken control of her own life and her sons. Sadly, somewhere along the way Alice felt she had lost that muchness the Hatter had spoken of so often. A small series of compromises had led her to this situation; alone again in Wonderland without her son and desperate for some reassurance that he was all right.

She sobbed against her knees, not caring if anyone could see or hear her. The world was a cruel and dark place that had beaten her so many times at this point that she hardly had the will to get up, even Wonderland possessed that cruelty she had seen so many times in the Aboveworld. She sighed and the pain and depression echoing in her very soul, this was the place she had left her heart, hoping the safe guard it and instead had locked it away forever. The one thing she was terrified here of was seeing Tarrant. How did one explain to their love that they had kept their child a secret for the child's own good? She didn't even believe it when she said it to herself.

Tiredly she looked up, eyes scanning the room for any reminder of the main who had, on occasion, chased her nightmares away. When she had arrived in Wonderland the last time it was the Mad Hatter who had helped her, pulled her from her depression and given her back that muchness Lowell had stolen away. He had made her comfortable in her own skin, taught her not all men were vicious brutes and given her a child created out of pure love. With him she felt the safety her own world had taken away from her the day her father had died, in that shelter he granted her the time and space to build herself up again, all while he watched guard to ensure no man or woman would hurt her. With his assistance she had made herself greater then she had been before Wonderland and in return she had left him.

At the time it had made so much sense. The White Queen had been adamant, if she should leave then she needed to do so as soon as possible and commit to that. The Hatter's mental state was tenuous at best and her comings and goings did nothing to help it. She had wanted to stay but then had thought of Hector and her mother and Margaret. She thought of Lowell and had worried that it was only a matter of time before he hurt someone again. Now, she laughed bitterly at her own innocence and naiveté. She had truly believed that she would be a hero to her family, exposing Lowell for who he was and saving countless other young girls from his clutches. In the end that had amounted to nothing and she had found herself pregnant alone and isolated. Fleeing had seemed natural, she shook her head, fleeing seemed to be the one thing she was good at. Still her adventures around the world had been empty, nothing would ever compare to Wonderland and no man in the world would match the man that resided there. Even her devotion to Charlie was born out of her love for his father. When her mother had suggested giving him up for adoption to avoid scandal she had thrown a fit, now she questioned whether or not his life would have been easier without her in it.

"Are you finished yet?"

Alice let out a strangled screech, jumping to her feet and snatching at the swords. Curiously the room was totally empty. With the exception of the half demolished furniture scattered across the floor and there was nothing to be seen. Her eyes scanned the darkness, looking for anyone who might be hiding but all hiding spots had been stripped away and she was indeed alone.

"What is she doing?"

Another voice this time, this one much more feminine and more annoyed.

"I have no idea." replied the first, "But I am starting to think this was mere foolishness on the White Lord's part."

"Then leave you fool," snapped the female voice, "But I am loyal to my Lord and my Lady and would not see that sweet boy suffer under the likes of that long legged ignoramus. I will never call him my Lord, would you?"

Alice turned around and around, looking for a single person where there was obvious none, finally, in desperation she called out, "Who's there, show yourselves!"

"High and mighty isn't she?" the male voice snapped

"Hardly, she is exactly as she should be." the female replied, "She defeated Lord Jabberwocky remember?"

Alice was shocked and nearly blinded as a blur of black whizzed by causing her to back up slightly. She marvelled, before her sat a large black bird perched on a broken shard of wood that had once been the Hatter's work table. The creature was a dark inky colour, with thick glossy feathers and blacker then black eyes. It cocked it's head to the side as it regarded her with sharp interest, even now she could see intelligence in its gaze, something to be wholly respected. Almost immediately it was joined by another giant bird, this one slightly larger and a little plumper then the first. This one regarded her with the same critical look before turning to his companion.

"There, she doesn't look like much," the male told his companion, "Are you sure she's the right one?"

"Of course I'm sure you buffoon," the female snapped before turning to look at Alice herself, "You are her right? Tell this moron you are Alice."

Alice nodded slowly, lowering her swords, "I'm Alice."

"See," the female scoffed, "I told you so. Charlie's mother's name is Alice, an Alice killed Lord Jabberwocky and this is an Alice. With an odd name like that how many Alice's do you think there are in Underland?"

Alice was upon them in moment, all tiredness long forgotten at the mention of her sons name. Dropping to her knees she focused in one the female.

'Charlie?" she asked eagerly, "You know where Charlie is? Can you take me to him? Is he alright?"

The birds forgot their own argument at her exuberance, both turning to look at her with appraising eyes.

"Of course we know where the boy is," replied the female, "It's not like any of us would let him out of our sights. Not after what you did to him and to us. Leaving us all with no defence at all. Isolating the poor thing, away from his home nest. The Ravens have watched over him since he was old enough to breath but with all the madness around here it's no wonder Underland drew him back, even if it did use a slob like that mis-limbed monster."

Alice back up slightly, confused at the birds words.

"Watched over him?" she asked softly, "Why would you do that? What could I have done to you?"

The bird cawed loudly, a strange mocking sound.

"Why wouldn't we with this world the way it is?" the bird answered sharply, earning a laugh from the bird next to her and Alice decided to drop the matter in favour of investigating the whereabouts of her son.

"Can you take me to him?" Alice begged, her eyes wide with hope.

"No," replied the female bird sharply, "But we can take you to someone else who knows where he is"

Alice let out a scream of frustration, throwing her arms up in the air while the birds let out a sharp cries a the sudden movement, behind her the skies cried out their dismay in bellowing voices that shook the foundation of the castle,  
"Come on now," chastised the female bird, "No need to lose your temper Lady, we know where the boy is but we can't take you to him."

"You got no wings Lady, how would you fly hmm?" the male added with a mocking voice, "There's no way our wings could carry you. We'd never make it over the Outland mountains."

"Well," Alice stated slowly, her eyes never leave the birds, "Is there someone who can carry me?"

The two birds looked at one another as if they had never considered it before. They chattered back and forth between one another as Alice watched and clutched the fabric around her body. The grief she felt was lessened slightly with the prospect of finding her son but the birds were right, she could not fly. If he was in the Outlands she would have to travel over the mountains and to do it without help was near impossible. Idly she pulled the black diamond out of her bodice and began toying with it. She could recall Charlie, oh so little in her arms tossing it placing it in his mouth, watching it glitter in the light.

"Charlie," she whispered softly pressing her lips to the gem.

She pulled back suddenly as the gem began to warm to her lips and them became red hot to the touch. Pulling the chain back far enough to stop it from scalding her she watched in amazement as the flat center of the diamond shimmered for a moment before forming a perfect image in front of her eyes and in the center of the image he was there.

Charlie had not seen Mr. Stayne for many nights. He liked routine and as time passed by routine became more and more secure and he found he could live with it. He would help Miss. Iracebeth with the laundering and tidying of their small home and then he would help her in the garden and then they would make supper together. It was a nice life and no one here laughed at him or called him names, Miss Iracebeth taught him all sorts of history lessons and what she had learned being a Queen. Of course when Mr. Stayne came home that all changed. It had started nice enough, Mr Stayne had taught him how to use a sword and sometimes would teach him things about hunting (even though he didn't want to hurt anyone) but soon he stopped talking to both him and Miss Iracebeth and started talking more to himself. He was mean, meaner then anyone Charlie had ever met in his entire life and sometimes he would come home and stumble like he had been twirled around and around and then pushed. On those nights Mr. Stayne words stopped making sense and he would scream at him and Miss Iracebeth and he would use words that Charlie was sure his mother would never let him use.

Miss Iracebeth took the worst of it on those nights, she would bundle him up in blankets and tell him to run to a secret place in the forest and not come back until morning. He never slept on those nights and spent his time worrying about Miss Iracebeth and talking to the ravens that seemed to always be there in the forests. He liked the ravens in Underland better then the ones at home because these ones would talk to him when he was alone (after seeing the feathers he had told them not to come near the house). They were good friends, nice and would tell him stories, bring him berries and promise him they would find his mother as soon as they could. He missed his mother terribly and at night sometimes he would talk as if she could still hear him, he would call for her and beg her to join him. Sometimes when he dreamed it scared him, in his dreams she was in his room, tied to his bed and he could not get to her. She was calling for him and he would try as hard as he could to get near her but there was always something separating them. He would wake up those nights crying and Miss Iracebeth would be there with a sip of water and a hug. Those nights he would tell her all about his mother, how pretty she was and how kind. He would tell her about the horrid boys at school and how even his Grandmother did not like him and how he wished she would come and stay with them in London where they could all be happy.

It was one of those nights, when he and Miss Iracebeth were around the fire when he felt a strong wind and tingle at the back of his neck. For a moment a sensation of pure happiness spread through him and he knew in his heart she was there.

"My mother has come!" he exclaimed happily, looking to his red haired friend with happy eyes, "I told you she would and now she has. Oh I can't wait for her to meet you Miss Iracebeth, you will be good friends."

Miss Iracebeth did not seem happy to know his mother was there, in fact she was sitting very tensely looking quite scared. Charlie stopped his happy giggling almost immediately, attuned to her moods. He looked at her carefully, stepping so that he was directly in front of her.

"What's the matter?" he asked, "You said my mother would come for me. You promised and you were right. Maybe with mother here my father will not be so mean and hate us so much."

Then she did something that shocked Charlie immensely. Jumping to her feet she rushed into the room they shared and immediately came out with thick shawls she used to cover her hair against the rain and the colder nights. He was surprised as she began wrapping them around his shoulders, using a pin from her dress to fastened them beneath his chin. She moved quickly using another smaller cloth to wrap up some of the berries he had collected the other day that were still sitting at the table. She pressed them into one of the folds of his new robes before grasping him tightly in her arms and pulling him to her in a tight hug before pushing him to arms length in order to talk to him.

"Listen boy," she began (for she always called him boy) "I have been a bad lady for most of my life and done many things that I am sure no one will ever forgive me for but in all those years no one has ever been as kind to me as you have. Now I need you to listen to me very, very carefully. Ilosovic Stayne is not your father, he is not anyone's father. Stayne is a monster of a man that used to work for me. He is the Red Knave and he lied to you to try and get your mother to come here. He has been in love with her for a very long time and once he has her he will surely kill both of us and then use his growing power to take the White Queen and conquer Wonderland. Now this is important Charlie, you need to run. Run as fast as you can towards a place called Marmoreal and when you are there find the White Queen and the Hatter. They will protect you. Now promise me you will not even turn back for a moment or he will find you."

Shocked Charlie looked at the earnestness in her eyes and he suddenly felt very, very alone. He pushed forward, wrapping his arms around her waist as tightly as he could and buried his face in her clothes.

"What will happen to you?" he asked softly as she lifted him up into her arms.

"Don't you worry about me." she replied with a crooked smile, "I will be just fine."

"Somehow I highly doubt that..." came a dark reply from the doorway


	10. Chapter 10

The Tenth

Alice ran faster then she had ever run in her entire life, her body shaking with the effort as she raced through the barrens of Crims following the two barely visible birds through the torrential downpour. The water soaked her to her very bone and Alice was certain the moment that the wind and rain let up she would die of exhaustion, but at this moment it didn't matter. What did matter to her was what she had seen in the Black Diamond. The idea that the diamond would show her whatever she wished for did not surprise her (nothing here did anymore), more then anything it had given her a moment of peace before plunging her heart into an ice bath of anxiety.

She reviewed the facts in her mind the same way she would a cargo manifest upon one of her ships: One, Stayne had Charlie. Two Charlie was being protected by the Red Queen. Three, both were in immediate danger as Stayne was aware Charlie knew that he was not the tall man's son. Four, they were after her as well and if Stayne were to capture her then he would surely kill Charlie. This presented a predicament. Stayne had Charlie but his true goal was her. If she were to retrieve her son then the chances of falling into Stayne's grasp increased exponentially. However leaving Charlie in the care of that masochist was no more acceptable then throwing herself in Stayne's arms willingly. She cursed her helplessness in this situation. She had swords she couldn't use, allies who could not fight, a son should couldn't find and not the slightest idea where she was heading. Therefore, she was left with few options, the most promising one was simply following the Ravens to find someone who could take her to find her son. Coincidentally this person was located just out of the gates of Mormoreal and therefore within travelling distance of the Hatter and White Queen. The depression that seemed to hang over her like a mourning veil felt heavier with that one thought. To see the Hatter again, with so many unresolved issues surrounding their relationship, she wasn't sure how she would react.

Of course the most common emotion Alice found she experienced in Wonderland had always been surprise. Distracted by her thoughts her foot caught on a wandering root, pitching her body forward into on the wet mucky ground with a resounding thud. She felt her ankle bend back and wrenching in the wrong direction as she went toppling down and she gasped and winced against the blinding pain screamed through her body like hell's fire. Turning onto her back she closed eyes and let the water wash over her as she marinated in the pain and the muddy water rushed all around her, making this the most miserable day of her life to date. She tried to quell down the sudden panic that seemed to rise within her as she realized just where she was lying. It was the water, always the water. Ever sine the Lowell incident she abhorred water that encompassed her, it rocked her nightmares and made her feel tense and tight with panic. She took her baths standing, dumping water over her head in the older tradition. Her mother and Hector had both suggested she see a doctor regarding the fear or better yet, just get over it. Personally Alice believed having a fear of water was a perfectly reasonable reaction to nearly being raped and then drowned so she tried not to put herself in situations where that fear would be allowed to blossom and fester. Closing her eyes against the flood she let the pain sweep through her and concentrated upon it as much as she could. The panic of the water all around her was nothing compared to the pain in her body and in her heart. She tried her hardest not to break down into tears.

"Come on now Lady, this is no time to sleep," the female raven cawed as she came to rest on a nearby log.

"I'm not resting, I'm hurt!" Alice snapped hotly, before muttering to herself "This impossible, how am I supposed to do this?"

"You did it before." the other bird replied sharply.

"But I was younger then," Alice cried, "And I had my friends to help me."

The birds cawed loudly, mocking her with their throaty voices.

"You are the ALICE," the female snapped, "If you are too weak hearted to fix this yourself then your don't deserve your son back. Not after what has happened, not after what you can do. "

"Come on," her companion cawed, "We can find another to help along the way. There will be another like her, her imagination has grown older and worn out, she's lost her muchness, she's no longer an Alice, she's a nothing. Underland will choose another. Hurry we should go to the White Lord, he's waiting."

Watching the two birds arguing with one another Alice let out a growl of pure anger, all the frustration she had pent up in the years she had left Wonderland coming to the forefront of her mind. She thought of everything she had done to get as far as she had and all the things she had faced as a young girl. She thought of everything she had sacrificed over the last six years for her child and all that she was willing to sacrifice now to see him safe. With that in mind it seemed so silly to be brought down by nothing more then a thunder storm, her own fears and a pair of pessimistic birds. All of those thoughts poured out of her in waves of sheer will as she pushed herself up into a standing position. The pain was excrutiating but by ignoring the screaming pain in her ankle she fought to overcome it completely. It didn't help that the ground kept giving out from under her and the water above her was pounding her back down, making her entire body wet and slick as she fought for purchase in the mud. Then, without thinking it out she threw her head back, long blonde hair trailed down her back and with all her strength and will she screamed at the storm.

"STOP" the words bellowed from the very core of her, as if her soul itself could scream at the weather and will it to bend to her desires.

It was rather shocking to the all present company when it did. Almost as soon as the word left her lips the rains simply stopped, as if someone had closed the facet upon them. Alice stood there stupidly staring at the sky. It was still dark and grey but she could see the stars starting to peak out as the rain clouds began to move aside, revealing a brilliant round moon hung perfectly in heavens. Turning to the ravens (both who seemed rather smug) her eyes again roved to the clear sky, as if it were too impossible for her mind to conceive of what had just happened. She had stopped the rain. With one word she had ordered the rain to stop and it had listened. She could not believe it, it was simply to ludicrous. A giggle bubbled from her lips and she raised her hadn't to cover it. However within moments her entire body shook with insane laughter intermingled with the cawing of the ravens. Some of her first advice to her son came to mind and she sound herself mutter, 'dear if you want something you must ask for it', the thought prompted another bout of joyous laughter she just couldn't keep within her. After a few moments to catch Alice collected herself to smile bashfully at her companions. Hobbling over to a low lying stump she eased herself onto it, no matter how exuberant she was about stopping the rain her ankle was still hurt and rather painful.

"I suppose we should continue on," she stated from her position on the stump, "you know my ankle is still hurt, I don't think I can command it to heal."

The Ravens seemed to take this into consideration and converse among themselves before let out two very loud obnoxious sounding caws. While in sitting with her feet in the mud Alice contemplated all the things that had brought her here, she could still feel the diamond upon her throat and the small onyx raven within her ruined bodice, idly she wondered if it was that figurine that had drawn the birds to her. Perhaps they were confused and thought she was a raven as well. With her thoughts wandered about her head she failed to see that their calls had been answered until the creature who had responded was all but standing on top of her.

Her head turned and her eyes initially met with a long, thick strong leg covered with very fine black brown fur. Her eyes travelled upwards where the leg connected with a firm heavy body and that to the neck and then a head which it was using to look down at her with singular interest. Alice gasped at the large black deer that had seemingly sauntered out of the forest, followed closely by the rest of his herd. Upon inspection Alice decided that the world 'deer' might be incorrect. These deer were not at all the kind she had taken Charlie to see in the zoo or that she had seen occasionally in the country; these creatures were much larger then normal deer, darker then any she had ever seen and everyone one of them had two large fangs that curved down from the their' upper lip, giving them an ominous appearance. The deer closest to her was by far the largest; his main distinction from the rest were two very large antlers perched atop his like a monarchs crown . He looked upon her with the same indifference as a monarch would, his expressive eyes set regally into his streamlined head and he seemed to regard her with a reserved sense before turning to the Ravens.

" Kusmalin," the female raven called to him, "This is Lady Alice."

"Ah no longer the Champion Alice then?" Kusmalin replied in a deep voice, "No longer the White Queen's pet?"

"I was never the White Queen's pet," Alice cried indignantly from her place on the ground, forgetting that the very large deer could kill her with very little effort.

The deer regarded her for a moment before looking speaking directly to her, "We are all pets to the Queens White and Red Lady Alice, never forget that. Whether we subscribe to them or not politics change the course of every creatures' life in Underland. However, we must always remember that at our core we are all children of the magic that exists in Underland and at the mercy of those who control it. Those are the monarchs my people honour. Do you understand?"

Alice looked at him for a moment before nodding her head in acknowledgement, she felt the same way about her own position at home.

"The White Queen is more lenient then the Red Queen," he replied smoothly, "The White Queen allows us free reign of Crims. My does remain in my herd and my fawns are no longer stolen from us in the night. It is a better life then the one we had before her."

Alice bit her lip, "My son was stolen from me. I am searching for him."

Kusmalin seemed to nod in sympathy to her before turning to look at his herd, the does and fawns seemed to be waiting for his order. Now that they were more exposed Alice could see at least a dozen of them. Four at least were large female deer, ranging in colours from light brown to blackest black. Most of the fawns were whitish but she could see the darker spots upon their bodies spreading, soon they would all look like Kusmalin. While their eyes belayed their playful youth they seemed to understand the seriousness of the situation and they stayed near their mothers. Alice was reminded of her son's strong resemblance to his father and she wondered if all children in Wonderland were destined to look as their father's did. Kusmaline seemed to converse with the ravens for a few moments before turning his heavy head to look at the deer behind him.

"This herd has long been allied with the Raven flock and the Lord of Night. We shall give you our alliance Lady Alice who controls the waters and rains and remain at your side for as long as you shall remain in Underland," Kusmalin stated after a few moments.

Taken aback at the level of devotion she stood still as the deer bent it's head low, the rest of the herd following his lead immediately. While the rest of the herd rose Kusmalin stayed low. Tentatively Alice pulled herself form the muck and hobbled over as best she could and eased herself into the large deer's back. He was a huge animal, much bigger then any of the horses she had ever ridden and she swung one leg over his side and used his antlers to help pull herself up the rest of the way. He rose up and took a moment to allow her to adjusted herself before pushing off.

Alice had never moved as quickly as she had upon the deer. Her swords jangled behind her so violently she feared they would snap off. Overhead the two ravens seemed to be having no trouble keeping ahead of the herd and swooped decisively through the air, leading them to an unknown location with the utmost speed. Behind her a trail of deer wove through the barren lands, their forms as dark as shadows upon a black sky. She was taken aback with the level of devotion Kusmalin had offered his help to her, somewhere in the back of her mind she was sure she was missing some very important detail to be gleaned from this strange experience. However she was not willing to risk her new allies in order to discover what it was, her utmost concern was still finding her son and she knew she would follow whoever led her to him to the fires of hell itself if she needed to. The weather stopping for her was strange but stranger things had happened in Wonderland, the Hatter had stopped time before, surely the weather was nothing to write home about. Above her she could see the clouds parting and for a moment she felt freer then she had ever been in her entire life, she wished she could share it with her son.

Hats, hats, hats by the tens, hundreds and thousands. The room was filled to the brim with every sort of fabric he could ever want or need and he made good use of the variety. When he had been offered the job at court he had agreed to it almost instantly, after all he had been so happy there and the Hightopps had always been employed at Court. His father had been Hatter to the Queen's parents and his mother had been a seamstress of the royal couple. Even among his clan (within his village) he had always been so well dressed and looked so stylish that by the time he had taken on his father's trade the young princesses were at the perfect age and excited to be hatted by him. Of course he had only ever been allowed to hat Princess Mirana as Iracebeth was always tended to by his father. It was only right she being the elder sister and heir to the crown of Crims while the younger was much easier to please and great deal more pleasant to interact with. He had thought himself quite privileged to be allowed time to speak with the princess and found her to be a wonderful child, as she grew so did their friendship. When the two Kingdoms were split and the two ladies took their crowns he had chosen to stay behind in Marmoreal with Mirana while his parents had gone on to Crims with the rest of the main court. And then the Jabberwocky had attacked and the fires had burned their homelands, and those who were still loyal to Marmoreal and had survived the Jabberwocky were executed...

More hats.

Hats made things better, made thoughts calm and nightmares go away. When he was too mixed up to do much of anything he could make hats and his nerves would ease. His sewing machine never ceased for more then a minute, his forehead always creased with the intensity of a master at his craft. All around him were hats of shapes, sizes and colours, all for her.

The third time she had come she had stayed in this very room for a short period. He had brought her here for fear her weakened state might take a nasty turn and he would not be there to help her. The healers had assured him had it was not the case, that his Alice was growing stronger, not weaker however he had felt to unsure enough about that assessment to actually allow himself to believe them. So he had carried her everywhere with him while she was unconscious, just in case . Then she had woken up and had cried and had told him the entire story and he was grateful she had insisted she do it right away for no one should ever have to tell such a story twice. He learned of how her sister's husband had been caught with another woman. How the loathsome dog had tried to force himself upon his Alice before deciding it was much simpler to simply drown her in the garden fountain. He had grown vicious with rage, a man taking his Alice, HIS ALICE, and holding her head in a fountain until she drowned. A tearing sound drew his eyes and he looked down to see that the white had in his hands had been torn in two. He threw both sides to the ground in outrage and threw the hat block against the wall.

She had been so weak when that fool Fairhaven had brought her in and in true form the White Knight had done it all, sworn his heart to her (as if he didn't do that to a new lady every other day) attempted to spend time with her (as if someone as interesting as Alice would be interested in anything that bore he had to say) and had even taken her for tea (an outrage, the main wouldn't know good tea if it poured itself IN his cup and asked him to drink it!). The man was an idiot and he had told Alice so plenty of time. So many times until the last time when he was raging about the blight that was Fairhaven and she merely caught his face between her hands and pressed her lips to his. He had never been kissed before, not counting his mother of course. Ladies were more interested in the items he could produce then in him. His appearance was not at all conducive to romantic trysts, not with the poison visibly seeping form his eyes and fingers. The reputation of the Hightopp clan's penchant towards insanity meant that finding a suitable wife was very difficult and marrying within the clan had become impossible after the Horunvendush Day. He did not blame them, it was hard to live with a half mad hatter, his mother had not been able to do it for long. His own father had been far more mad then even he was when he had finally.... his mother.... but he had not meant to.... he had been a Hatter for so long and the poison had finally taken his mind....

HATS

He moved quickly and sharply, retrieving more fabric and wire. A new hat, a new hat was needed. He retrieved a soft turquoise coloured felt and smiled at the tone of it. It was lovely, perfect, not normally what Alice would wear but it was something he needed to work with , he knew it. He placed upon a little used hat block absently as his mind wondered.

Oh yes, an Alice kiss. He learned it was one of the most wonderful things in the whole of Underland and for the first time he could hear his own voice alone in his head. The Alice kiss drained the madness from his mind and he felt his old self again, better then he had in years. This had made him want to do it all the time of course. After a rather embarrassing debacle in the Throne room Alice had explained that kisses should be private and not given out willy-nilly lest everyone would want one from her.. He was all right with kissing privately as long as it meant that he was the only one she kissed, she agreed to his terms wholeheartedly although he must imagined kissing his madness away to be quite tiring. He supposed that a great amount of power was needed to take the voices from his head and he was probably taxing Alice with his constant insistence, so he let her choose the time and place and was rewarded as the kisses became longer and more drawn out. He smirked at that thought. Nights spent in this room working with her alongside, simply laughing and talking upon the fainting couch he had had brought in. He had taught her to make a hat, just one so as not to expose her to his poison for too long, but she had wanted to try. And afterwards, when they were finished he had lifted her to the table and pressed her down against the woodgrain and she had run her hands along his chest....

Hats.

His eyes drifted to the hat at the far corner in one of the display cases he kept for his favourite creations. It was just a simple thing, a boudoir cap but it had meant so much. He had moved her hands along the block, dragging the scissors along the material, helping her with the lace. Oh it had been an experience. The work itself was clumsy, new and definitely lacked his style but it was Alice's and therefore it was better then anything he could produce. Then she had left, she had told him she must bid good-bye to her family; her mother and her sister and her friend Hector. He, like a fool, had believed she would be right back. After all, she had been back the last time. He had given her his time, handed it to her and promised himself for her and she had never returned. He felt the pain scream through his body. Even the anger could not overtake the pain and the Queen had commented time and again at how blue his eyes had gotten. She knew enough of his clan to know that their eyes reflected their souls and that it served as a warning. If he were to lose his mind his eyes would turn that deep brilliant pink his father's had. Then they would all be in trouble. He laughed out loud at that. They would have to kill him. The most noble death of a Hightopp man was at the end of his monarchs blade. It was eons off yet. He still had full use of his hands and feet, his mind was somewhat in tact. Occasionally, sometimes....

Hats.

Oh why was a Raven like a writing desk?

He was shocked to look down and find that he had actually finished the hat in his hands. Marvelling at it he bought it up to eye level to inspect it and his eyes widened and turned their bluish green. It was not an Alice hat, oh not at all. No this hat was a child's top hat, something a young boy could wear to keep his head warm and his hair dry. He looked at the turquoise thing, his anger rising immediately and his hands itching to tear it in two. Then with a feral scream he threw the thing to the ground, leaving it whole and untouched.

Boy. Alice had a boy. His Alice had had a child. A little child. A child, a child, a wee little boy all her own. A boy for her to call son, that wee little boy they were all now looking for.

He dissolved into angry tears. She had gone to her home and had found a replacement for him. Someone who could love her and probably did not scream for no reason. Her new man probably had well groomed hair and normal eyes that did not change colour and a voice that stayed the same. He probably took tea at the right times and worked in the places that Alice had described as being normal and wore boring clothes, and took her arm when they went places and kissed her with his mouth closed and didn't take her on tables or on walls or anywhere other then in their bed....

He let out another scream of outrage, tearing at his clothing, at the table and hats before them.

Her husband probably didn't have orange under his eyes and on his fingers and when he touched her he probably didn't see the the entire universe fall into perfect order and when he joined her he probably didn't feel so whole that he could burst. Whoever that man could be he didn't love her the way he himself did. There was no way. He cared her more then anyone could care for anything, he was sure of it. And she had had a son. She had given this other man a CHILD. Maybe it was different in Aboveground, maybe children were common place, Alice had said they were, but things were not so here. Children were different here. There hadn't been children since the Jabberwocky had attacked. The Red Queen's kingdom never produced children, the last he could think of had been Stayne and none after him. The White Queen's kingdom used to have at least a dozen (most of them Hightopps) and then, after that attack, none. In order to create a child both parents must WANT it. It must be a pure act of longing, not for pleasure alone but an expression of love between two people. The parents had to will themselves joined, had to want the child to exist more then anything and in turn children were magical. So powerful in their abilities, in their purity, that only things consumed by darkness could hurt them. To harm a child was a horrid crime, something that people did not even consider in civilized society. Likewise, parents guarded their children maniacally here since they were so rare, he had seen it himself even as he had grown his own mother had been protective over him. He wondered what Alice was like as a mother. He imagined she would be fearless, exciting and not at all boring. With her guidance any child of hers would have to be extraordinary, no matter who its father was.

On the ground, sitting and weeping, his eyes sought out the small cap he had made.

Alice's child's cap. Alice's Charlie. Such an odd name but he could recall her saying it had once belonged to her father's. He could understand that. He could not recall his father's name. His mother had been Allyonia. He could remember her being the most beautiful woman in Witzend, in his opinion. He could remember her bathing him, her feeding him, dressing him, putting him in his first hat, laughing at his jokes while she worked at her trade. She had made the most beautiful clothes. She had made so many suits and jackets for him and he still wore her clothes. She had sewed in advance, creating clothing for him years before he would ever use it but she had told him that he would grow into her designs and his body was too in love with her to ever disobey. He had grown just as she had wanted him too and now the only item he had not worn was the most immaculate one.

He jumped to his feet and shoved through the doorway that led to his personal chambers. Opening his closest doors he walked into the large room for all his suits. They had remained here even after the Jabberwock attack, he had only taken the clothing he had worn when he had begged leave of Marmoreal. There, in a place of eminence sat the one unworn suit. His wedding suit. His mother had created it for him when he was just a wee lad, and he had told her it was silly to do so. He had hated girls at the time and even though there had been young children his age in that era he had much rather spend his time with her. But she had told him it was silly not to have a suit and it should shame her if her son was to attend his own wedding looking scruffy. She had taken more time to make it then had ever seen her take before. She sewed in every stitch with nothing but pure love and devotion to both him and her trade. In the end it was a stunning silver in colour, with a rainbow of gems and colours sewn in. If he moved in it it reflected whatever his mood was and she had done it on purpose, so that he might be sure that he loved the one whom he was marrying. He had thought that silly at the time but as the years passed and his own parents grew colder towards one another and his father became more and more unstable he knew why she had done it. She wanted him to be sure, because once it was done it could not be undone.

What had Alice worn on her wedding day? Was it stunning? was it beautiful? He would have made her a dress fit for a Queen with a hat the likes of which no one in the Lands, Above or Under, had ever seen before.

Overcome once again he moved away from the closet, afraid to touch the suit and change it's colour. He didn't want to know what he felt. It was much better being mad, being mad meant that he didn't have to think about his Alice with her son and the replacement him. The man who had kept her from him, who had won her over. Was he like Fairhaven? He hoped not. Ignoring the sensation to tear out his own eyes he moved again towards the workroom. The Alice hats needed tending. He would speak with them on this matter, perhaps they could contribute some insight towards the woman to whom he had lost his heart and mind.

He noticed that the rain had stopped.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Thanks again to everyone for reading, the story is going to be picking up in the next couple of chapters so hopefully you like it. Again sorry for the errors and inconsistency in updates, school is demanding but thanks to everyone for being so understanding.**

The Eleventh

"Where are we headed too?" Alice finally asked, her eyes adjusting to the rising dawn and scanning the thick verdant forests before her.

"We are at the border to Marmoreal," Kusmalin replied easily, "The crossing over places us in the White Queen's territory."

"You do not want to go there?" Alice inquired.

"We do not belong there." the creature stated authoritatively, "The White Queen's land is for those who are light of heart and mind and the Muskdeer have never been such. My herd has seen too many horrors and known too many pains to be her subjects. The Guardian will not allow us to cross."

Alice bit her lip, taking in those around her. Over the last few hours she had heard the stories, how they were hunted for their pelts and their tusks. How Antlers were ground down to make Alchemy powders and how their blood was a restorative, collected from a still beating heart. The White Queen had not done these things but the deer had long ago stopped feeling an allegiance towards her. They had peace and that was enough to keep them content, but she had her own subjects who shared her views and her own ideals that they did not share. They had spoken numerous times of their Lord and from what Alice had gleaned their Lord was dead and another had come to take his place. However she knew so little as to the hierarchy of Wonderland she had no idea who this new Lord might be and where he was to be found, the deer had made one thing for certain, the Lord would easily be able to stop Stayne and bring Charlie to her. In this regard Alice found the White Queen to be rather useless, she had not seen hide nor hare of the White Queen's forces and had managed to travel to the borders of Marmoreal totally undetected, it suddenly made sense how the Red Queen and Jabberwocky had so easily overtaken the White Court.

"She is blind to the plights of others," one of the Does had said of the White Queen, "How can a creature like that know the sorrow of losing one's fawn to the Jabberwocky when she has never had a child? How can she appreciate what it is like to suffer when she has never known pain? Her vows are commendable but the chances of her failing them are high. We respect her and her station but are we do not swear our fealty to her. We shall never follow the White Queen."

"Our loyalties lie with you Lady Alice," Another Doe added softly, "Lady of the Weather and the Rains. Lady of the Wing and Hoof. We serve only one Lord."

Alice sighed in exasperation. She had tried on quite a few occasions over the last few hours to explain to the herd she was not a Queen. She was not an anything. She was simply Alice Kingsley, a mother looking for her child. It hardly mattered as her words had not deterred them in the least. Eventually she just gave up and let them call her Lady Alice. They came up with the descriptors themselves, although she felt it was rather over dramatic. Turning to look beyond the thinning forests into the almost pristine looking kingdom beyond it. Her Hatter resided there, within sight of her and she was suddenly overcome with a bout of sadness and nerves that nearly overwhelmed her.

"The herd shall take you as far as the statue where you shall see our Lord. Then we shall retire to the forests. If you ever have need of us simply call." Kusmalin stated smoothly as he sauntered down a deeper hill.

Alice agreed to the terms, still rather shocked they could hear her although he assured her that wherever in Underland she was they would find her. She didn't doubt it, after all the herd had made it from just outside the Red Queen Fortress across all of Crums, through the Tugley Wood and then over the short border of Queast and Snud to the edge of Marmoreal. Even now she could see the White Queen's palace glittering like a salt water pearl among the lush green, grassy hills; well manicured forests that sat perfect and orderly and the cherry blossom trees forever in bloom giving the entire scene it a fairy tale appeal. Kusmalin and his herd sauntered along the border, keeping the prancing fawns off of an invisible line only they could see. Overhead the Ravens twisted and twirled in the air, arguing with one another bitterly while still giving the impression of utmost attention and loyalty. Alice grinned at their fidelity.

"Here we are then," the great stag announced, stopping before a rather large looking tree.

She had been taken to a grove, a clearing where the trees had stopped growing and seemed to form a natural court, a circle of respite from the vegetation. Along the ground ran a small pure looking stream, the deer stood on one side of it looking upon a collection of trees located opposite them. It took Alice a moment to realize it was not a tree at all, rather a stone ruin covered in overgrown forests, with dark twisting vines all around, binding it to the land and soil. Kusmalin lowered his body, kneeling so she could slip off. Daintily, she eased her body to one side, trying her best to shift her weight so as not to place pressure on her ankle. Looking down she could see it was indeed rather swollen and quite sore. Sighing she hobbled on one foot and hopping over to one of the stones on their side and painfully seating herself upon it.

"Are you all right Lady Alice?" one of the fawns asked.

She turned her head up to stare at the large gentle eyes. The babies seemed to be born white and ease their way into brown or black as time passed. This little female was quite young as her tusks had yet to grow in and the majority of her body was still very white.

"I will be," Alice assured her, "I don't think it's broken. It will just slow me down and it hurts."

The baby seemed to take note of this and bend its head down to inspect the injury. The, rather delicately it extended its long rough tongue and ran it along the swollen area of the joint. Alice gasped suddenly at the cold sensation. It was as if someone had placed as ice pack on it, relieving the burning heat and easing the horrid pain. She stared, rather wide eyed, at the young creature, a smile passing across her face.

"That's incredible." she grinned.

The fawn seemed shocked at the praise and took a moment before it gave her a shy, pleased look. She backed away, running to her father and winding herself through Kusmalin's legs. The large stag looked down on the little one fondly and for the hundredth time Alice felt the stab of pain remembering Charlie. She reached out to grasp her necklace once more, holding it tightly between her fingers. Pressing it to her lips she tried to clear her mind and think of her son but she couldn't there felt like something was around her, blocking her. It was then she noticed that Ravens had dropped from the sky and were now perched in front of a large statue upon a near broken plinth.

"Come on Lady, we don't have all day here!" the male bird snapped hotly.

"Come on Lady Alice," the female replied sharply, "We must hurry before they notice we are no longer where we should be."

She looked at them all, rather confused. The ankle felt better but it was certainly not healed and she limped to where the statue was, practically dragging her body through the stream. Jumping as high as she could on the one foot and using the bad one to steady herself she began to tear off the raging flora. The vines fought her back, tightening their hold and screaming out in protest as she tugged them loose but she did not stop. They cut into her hands a times, biting at her skin but she was stronger than they were and putting her weight behind the effort was able to rip them free. Within a few moments the face of the statue was uncovered, revealing a large beak etched out of pure white marble. She had seen a Gryphon before but never one as this one. This creature was perfect, majestic and proud with keenly carved expressive eyes and a strong sharp looking beak. Its head was that of an eagle, with smooth thick feathers she was sure would be glossy if the creature were alive. Its body was that of a lion, strong and large in size. It was obvious that it was built for power and was a monument to mythological perfection from the horses tail at it's backside to the huge two great eagle claws that replaced the lion's front paws. Extended in the air were two great wings, probably doubling her own height. The creature was as large as a big horse, definitely larger then Kusmalin or any of his herd and it was frozen in its regal pose, as if it were waiting. The strangest sensation came over Alice and she felt herself drawn to the creature, she moved towards it unbidden, pressing her hands to the cool marble and her cheek against its one claw, closing her eyes.

Immediately the impression of being dropped down a long dark hole immersed her consciousness and a sudden panic came upon her as she realized she was frozen in place. Her body was paralysed, incapable of movement. Pulling back as hard as she could she clenched her eyes shut, attempting to force them open and escape the blackness right before a calm sensation wash over her.

Suddenly her perspective changed and she was no longer in the forest but rather in a throne room. It was oddly like the White Queen's room but reversed in both form and colour. All the white had been replaced with variations of black: black and white chequered floors, heavy black marble columns lined the room leading the a dais made of the same dark granite with views of silvery white running through them. Instead of a throne upon the dais sat a large creature, both impassive and regal as it watched her through eyes the colour of pitch. As she cautiously moved forward through the room and neared the dais area she realized it was the Gryphon.

The creature was stunning, thick snowy feathers ran down his head and back, connecting with his large powerful wings. His body was pure muscle and a pale sandy tanned colour fur that gleamed golden in the light, she could see the pure power behind his haunches and back, it spoke of nothing but muscle and she knew he could kill her with one swipe. She had seen lions before, in the zoos when she had taken her son and in captivity in Africa however none had looked like this creature. His sharp black eyes seemed to catch her and for a moment their gaze met one another and Alice felt as though he were in her mind, forging a connection into her very soul.

"Gryphon," she whispered the name that appeared in her mind.

"Ah you can speak." he mused, looking down at her imperiously, " I was wondering when you would come upon it, poor sad little human. "

Alice felt the sharp stab of anger echo through her body and for a moment she contemplated simply running up to the creature and throwing her fists about him. She reached for her swords, disappointed to find them absent. Strangely enough the creature turned to her once again and laughed, a loud screeching sound that caused her to bring her hands to her ears.

"You would attack me little one?" he grinned with a teasing sense, "Fearlessness that is worthy of my favour I would think, but sadly I feel it is not your courage but rather the poison that already courses through your unwitting mind. A sad state child, a sad, sad state.."

He rose on his legs and stepped off the pedestal. Level with her height he was a great deal larger then any horse, his legs were long and powerful and his sharp claws left gouges wherever they went. He moved with a lazy grace, a great strength she was intimidated by but in a moment he seemed to switch. He moved to her, moving around her, looking at her from every angle before settling down, crossing his paws before her and resting his head down upon them.

"You are a strange little thing," the Gryphon grinned, "I knew you as a child and I had thought you would grow as you have, humans are interesting that way. What I am surprised by is that you still do not realize your own abilities. Silly little girl, you were more aware of yourself when you were a child then you are now, but children often are. You have no idea what you have done, what you have created. It is a sad state of affairs."

Alice felt her temper rise, all the frustration coming to a head and ignoring the pain in her foot she stomped towards the creature, "Enough, do you hear me? I have had enough of all this. How am I to know theses things hmm? I am not from here, I do not know why or how these places exist and I do not claim to know why. All I know is that I keep being brought here!"

"And why do you think that is?" the Gryphon asked with the utmost boredom as he lifted one long talon and examined it. He did not deem her worth looking at and seemed to be more interested in what was under his claws then her.

"If I knew that I would not be speaking to you. You look at me this moment!" Alice demanded, "I have been dragged here time and again, I have had my childhood, my innocence and every little piece of my life absorbed in this place and I will not let it happen to my son! Do you hear me? Not for Charlie!"

The creature looked at her, it's eyes gleaming with interest now, "So you do understand."

"Understand what?" Alice cried helplessly.

"Poor child," the Gryphon smiled, rising to his feet, "Humans from Aboveland have such trouble accepting what this land is. Allow me to enlighten you, my girl. Underland has existed for as long as the Aboveground has We will always exist, that is a truth, but our world is empowered and fed off the dreams, hopes, imagination and power of the humans from Above. I have been in Underland since its first moment, I have existed since existence came here and I am a brother of time and the guardian of dreams and all positive emotions."

"You were are a statue," Alice stated, her ire disappearing as this new knowledge appeared before her.

He seemed to twist his head before her, his eyes roving around.

"I decided to rest," he answered calmly, almost gently, "I am no more a statue then I am a creature then I am a man. All things in Underland exist in a balance child. When the human creatures first became apparent in Wonderland things began to change. You see human imaginations created us first and then because your people imagined creatures like themselves they arrived here later. I have seen monarchs rise and fall, both here and above and every time it happens things here change. When the White Queen took power over the Red and my twin was defeated, I chose to rest. All things in Underland must exist within the balance and when the balance is upset nothing in Underland can be right."

Alice stopped, staring at him. The implications of that statement were so intense her mind ached with the repercussions of it. A different aspect of Wonderland was opening up to her in a way she had never consiered before. She chastised herself for being so ignorant. She had seen it before, so many times in the other places they visited. When she and Hector had first made headway into China the culture had been so different, so virginal and then they had started to trade and she had started to see the changes. For the better or worse their presence effected the culture. She had received mixed receptions, some welcomed them while others reviled them. Her experiences in China had spurred her behaviour in India, where she had decided to endure her pregnancy. There she had tried to immerse herself in their culture, to adopt local custom and drop away the English facade she had been raised with. It was difficult, it meant changing the way she interpreted words and action, the way she thought and at times it had been terrifying but she had allowed that world within her and instead of changing that world she had felt her own perspectives shift, she had never realized Wonderland was the same. A thought hit her and she fixed her eyes upon the Gryphon who was watching her with a knowing look.

"The Jabberwocky?" she asked softly.

"My twin," the Gryphon answered, "The darkness to my light. I was the guardian of all dreams. The positive feelings that run through Underland and the underlying positive current are all under my jurisdiction. I ensure no one is able to take more of that energy then they are allotted, it is my duty to ensure no creature in Underland becomes so good as to overtake all the others. My brother was the opposite, my foil. He was the guardian of..."

"The darkness." she finished for him. "But he was evil, he killed people."

"He lost control of his sensibilities." the Gryphon replied sadly, "He allowed himself to fall into an alliance with the humans of the Underland, he forgot what and is not our place to interfere and because of this oversight fell to the vorpal one. A sword of my own making, carved from one of my own claws."

The Gryphon lifted his right front foot where she could clearly see there was a claw missing. She had always wondered what the pearly substance on the vorpal had been. The creature seemed to reflect for a moment before rising up once again.

"When Jabberwocky fell the balance was torn. The negative emotions, the instability, the madness that is ever present in the very essence of Underland was set loose, infecting those who were susceptible to it with insanity and loosing evil upon the innocent. You see my twin was not born evil, just as I was not born good. We simply represented the darkness and the light already present, became its guardians and stood post to ensure no one creature absorbs too much of one or too much of the other, but as time passed it changed us. The creatures I hold domain over are creatures of sheer brilliance and not consumed with the darker side of nature, I must watch over them to ensure they survive as they would not protect themselves from death even if they could. My price is non-interference. I may never be a part of their lives, I may never give life even though it is within my power and I may not take part in their drama or any emotions for pain of sacrificing some of my powers. My brother's job was quite difficult, his ability was to regulate the darkness, hold domain over it and ensure all of Underland did not fall to it's spell. It takes a great deal of power and control you realize; to keep darkness in check and when he fell to it, when his control lessened and he allowed the darkness itself to touch his soul. As a result his form changed and his mind changed." the Gryphon lamented, "by the time I heard of his plight and visited my brother he had already sworn his allegiance to the Red Queen and developed a taste for blood. He was too far gone, too much mad for me to change. All the goodness in my heart, all the power in my soul could not rid the darkness from his and in the face of his neglect I turned myself to stone so as not to see his sins and not to feel his pain. I swore I would remain so until order was returned to the land and the chosen one came to set things right."

His dark eyes fixed upon her.

"You cannot possibly mean me?" Alice exclaimed, pointing to herself.

"Of course I mean you," the Gryphon scoffed, "Who slayed the Jabberwocky?"

Alice took a step back as the creature advanced upon her, "Well I did...."

"And who woke me from my sleep?" he continued, forcing her to step back once more.

"Well I guess I did but..."

"And already the dark creatures of the land have started swearing their allegiances..." he continued on, cocking his large eagle head to the side.

"But that doesn't mean anything..." she cried, trying to defend herself.

"It means everything." he replied sharply, "You came here to restore the balance even though you're directly responsible for throwing it off. You are from the Aboveground and therefore you are not confined by the same laws the creatures of Underworld must adhere to. Humans in the Aboveland are not required to take a side, to be wholly good or wholly dark, you all exist in the in between. You have a greater capability to ensure madness while not being consumed by it This is what you must do Alice, if you wish to retrieve your young one, if you wish to exist in our world you must take my brothers place, restore the balance. Before the darkness that is being called to you consumed you whole."

Alice looked at him helplessly. The last few years, from the time she had killed the Jabberwocky on she had felt the shift in her own soul, the lure this land had to offer and the almost impulsive desire to return.

"But my son..." she whispered.

"Is perfect," the Gryphon replied earnestly, " He is more powerful and more important then even his captor has an idea of. The first child to be born of Above and Under. You do not understand my Lady, in order to save your child you must accept the powers and responsibilities our land has granted you, just as he must learn to use his. In slaying my twin you accepted his role and since your absence creatures like Ilosovic Stayne have been left to accumulate power unchecked, the darkness grows rapidly within them granting them more and more power, power they should never have. If your child is devoured by Stayne, taken by the darkness, the evil that infected my brother shall spread through this land like a virus and poison all that live here. Then we shall see true madness."

"But I must take Charlie home," she tried.

The Gryphon screeched his painful laugh.

"You are already home girl," he replied, "You do not see the changes in yourself, in your moods. You have already stopped being Alice. The Underland has accepted your new role and while your child might return as is his right you never will. You are no longer the Alice of before. If you do not banish the sorrow in your heart, the guilt you feel for failing your child and the darkness that already dwells within your all too human soul it will consume you now as it consumed my twin. You cannot see yourself but it has already changed you. The darkness is drawn to you whether you wish it to be or not and it will seep into you if you do not accept it and control it. You are no longer just Alice, you no longer can be. Accept who you are, that you have power over this world that no one but myself could comprehend and embrace your new role. You will connect your mind with mine so you might truly comprehend what my insufficient words truly mean. Then we shall save your child and you will find your place"

Alice looked upon the creature in front of her, she could already feeling the darkness and sorrow seeping into her with the realization that perhaps he was right. The medicine should have worn off long ago but the remnants of poison still lived in her veins. She had only thought these feelings were a result of the days she had spent drugged and confined by depression, but time seemed inconsequential to it and the darkness remained there, teetering on the edge of her consciousness. The Gryphon was right in a way, she did feel a failure in her role as mother to Charlie and the depression and sadness seemed to be a constant companion. She could not count the number of times she had cried in the last while. It was odd that these creatures were following her as if there was something within her she could not see but was clearly apparent to all of them. Wonderland had changed her long ago, she knew that but if what this creature said was true then the risk was greater then she had ever thought it could be. Still her own problems were nothing in comparison to those of her son and if the Gryphon could help her retrieve him then she would do whatever insane thing he wished her to, consequences be damned.

"Fine," she snapped at the creature, "My son is more important to me then anything else, I'll do whatever you ask as long as I can get him back."

The creature gave out another chuckle and settled his dark eyes upon her, "Then hurry, our brother time will only pause for us for a short moment, we have a lot to do and little in which to do it."

"I had thought you smarter then this," Stayne said smoothly as he circled his captives, "After all we have been through, after I didn't kill you, you would betray me like this."

He looked down at Iracebeth and she glared back up at him defiantly Her face was hard and unyielding as it had been for the last three days. He had beaten her, expecting her to crack under the abuse but it had done nothing. She had not yielded not even for a moment, instead using all the powers she still had in her arsenal to keep the child safe. Even now he had not been able to lay a single hand on the red haired boy without feeling every ounce of the pain bounce back at him. The child was encased within Iracebeth's arms, weeping uncontrollably, inconsolable before the situation. Since he was incapable of harming the child physically he had satisfied himself with harming him mentally. He described to the boy exactly how he would kill his mother when he was finally granted the opportunity. He described the Hatter as best he could, making it clear to the boy that his true father was mad and it would be his destiny to grow into his own madness. Still the child had not broken beneath the strain, his eerie green eyes looking upon him in a way that made Stayne feel as though the cruelty he was perpetrating was actually evil. He hated those eyes,

"I will not allow you to harm this child," Iracebeth murmured through her bloody lip.

Stayne scoffed, "You are an ugly stupid fool and you will die."

She did not seem to notice what he said, instead she sat rocking the boy who was still doodling in that horrid little book. Over the last few days he had no stopped his drawing although he had stopped speaking. Within food Stayne had thought the two would fall prey to him whims but they had not. The boy had proven to be just as stubborn as his mother. Stayne sneered, only a few more days. In three days time he would meet Alice, he could feel it. Something in his bones told him she was coming and he looked forward to it.


	12. Chapter 12

The Twelfth

When it was time for them to take up their positions as Queens both Mirana and Iracebeth had been given to the appropriate parent for a month which was spent being instructed in their proper duties and what was expected of them.

When she was merely the White Princess Mirana could recall her mother leading her through the Kingdom upon the horse she now favoured, showing her all the most important secrets Marmoreal held and informing her of all that she must pay attention too and note.

"When you are Queen and wear the crown your mind will change my sweet," she had stated serenely, "For years the White Queens have held domain over this pure land granted to us by the White Lord himself. We are protected by his grace and forever will be as long as our alliance with him stands. That is the reason why your father never attacked our land and why he never grew bored of my game. There were other Queens that sought his hand, women of greater beauty and connections then I, but he chose me. Do you know why Mirana?"

She had contemplated the question for some time as her mother had taught her to do (her mother had never once had she rushed her answer) then, at length, she offered one, "Because you made him wait mother?"

Her mother had looked upon her with her dark eyes and had smiled her perfect smile.

"Exactly my sweetling," she replied, "Patience is a virtue and that is power we hold. The power we have, the power to earn loyalty from friends and subjects, patience is essential to that. Above all things Mirana, the crown must remain pure."

Her mother had removed her crown then (it was the first time in her entire life Mirana had ever seen her do so) and she lowered it enough so that they both might look upon it. It was a stunning platinum in colour with tear drop star sapphires along its edge twisting into vine like patterns. She allowed only a moment before placing the crown back atop her head.

"When you become a true White Queen the crown will change for you, to take on your own personality just as it has done for our entire line." her mother smiled, "When it does so you will feel a deeper connection to the land and the White Lord. He remains asleep, in the corpse grove at the borders, but if a crisis arises in the land he will come to you. Mind you Mirana, his requests are our orders, he possesses authority over us and if the time comes you must listen to his wishes."

She had agreed and in all her time upon the throne, with the crown and without, she had never once seen the White Lord. She had assumed he was fictional or at least a myth constructed by her ancestors to explain their divine right to rule . She certainly had not expected to see him at court.

It had been a trying few days. Just after the rains had stopped Fairhaven had returned to address the situation. Alice was nowhere to be seen. They had tracked her all the way to the Red Queen's ruined castle and then back again. Somewhere in the Tugley wood she had fallen down and remained there for sometime in the mud. At this point the entire wood had been flooded and Bayard was useless despite being the best tracker in the land. Before the assembled group he announced that Alice, as she was, was completely and totally lost to Underland.

"You mean you lost her," the Hatter had sneered, the Scottish accent full of scorn and his eyes blazing a wild orange, "One wee little lass and you lost her. She doesn't even know whereabouts she's going and you lost her."

Fairhaven had been rather insulted and had attempted to defend himself but the Hatter was upon him in an instant, a long hat pin at his heart.

"I don't need a sword to kill ya," he sneered, "This'll do the trick."

"HATTER!" she had snapped, pulling him out of his trance.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, tucking the pin back into his jacket quickly and looking at Fairhaven with a bashful expression, "I'm fine."

The knight nodded, the uncertainty still visible across his face even as Tarrant back away towards her. She gave Fairhaven a knowing look and he returned it. The Hatter was growing worse. Earlier she had found him conversing with his hats, not at all odd for him, but it was the passionate nature of the conversation that bothered her. He was speaking to them as if they were Alice and while doing so he was breaking in and out of his darker personalities. It was as if the madness within him was growing stronger and stronger and the true Tarrant was trying to contain it, and failing. She feared the emotional upset of Alice's return would throw him into a panic, one that he might never be able to drag himself out of. Apparently her fears had been well founded. The Hatter had not even returned to his proper place and the knight had barely had the time to right himself when the front doors of the hall burst open.

Her soldiers pushed forward immediately from their places within the wings of the room, ever vigilant to her distress. However the sight that greeted her was not one she had ever expected to see. Before her was a creature she had only heard of in her mother's night time stories and even then had only seen in statues and in her dreams. He was large, larger then her horse and she had to lift her head to see under his neck as he moved towards her. He was lucky the halls of the door were large enough to allow him entrance but she quickly amended the thought, if he had wanted an entrance she was certain the doors would have accommodated him. Its face was that of an eagles, large, proud and fierce. A bright yellow beak curved downwards, ending in a wicked point, his features were covered with pure white features that ran down to its chest and along its back where they grew larger and expanded into stunning wings. She had never seen a real Gryphon before other then upon the wall of her father's castle and was taken aback by the sheer wonder of it.

"Queen Mirana of Marmoreal, last of the line of White Queens," It commanded sharply.

She stood up, gathering her wits about her and gracefully fell to her knees before the great creature. Seeing her do so all the others in the hall mimicked her immediately.

"Great White Lord," she responded piously, "To what honour do I owe your presence?"

The creature regarded her for a few minutes and then stepped forward. She was surprised to see with every step he was shrinking in size until he became no larger then a normal man in height.

"I have been sleeping for some time Mirana of Marmoreal and in that time the balance has been disturbed," he spoke seriously with a chastising tone, "In my wisdom I have decided your are responsible for many of these disturbances and I have come to demand penance from you."

Her heart quickened within her chest and she kept her head down. Her knees were growing cold on the marble floors.

"I do not know of what you speak Great Lord," she replied as calmly as she could, "but if you say I am at fault then I must be. Please tell me what I must do."

The creature cocked his head to the side and backed away a few paces before commanding in a deep voice, "Rise up, all of you rise up and face me. This meeting is better conducted on your feet then on the floor."

All those present did as was asked and it was only then that Mirana noticed that the Gryphon was not alone. Behind him, sitting on the tips of his wing joints were two black ravens. She was suddenly confused. Ravens would not come into Marmoreal, and certainly not upon the White lord. She moved to say something but his gaze held her in place and caught her tongue. A low moan came from the Gryphon's vicinity and she again realized the ravens had company as well. There was someone else with him.

"You, knight, come to me," the creature demanded, lowering his front talons, "Take her from my back with great care."

Fairhaven approached the Gryphon and gentle reached upon the creatures back. Softly she watched as he wrapped his arms around a body that had been lying between the creatures wings and with the utmost care he eased it off of his back. The form in the knight's arms was very slight, thin even and wrapped in a long, black dress. Her skin was very, very pale and her long hair glistened with a golden hue that contradicted the darkness in her clothing and manner. Mirana watched as one pale arm fell down and then another, within minutes a startlingly beautiful face was exposed as the head lolled back in its sleep. Mirana gasped out loud. Alice did not look as she had looked when she was their champion, many things had changed about her. The childish parts of the girl that had once denoted her youth had disappeared with time, leaving her rather mature form of a woman. Of course her own reaction to the appearance of the Champion was the least problematic.

"Alice!" Tarrant gasped, moving swiftly towards the knight in a threatening manner, "Drop her you dog, take your vile hands off of her!"

It was the Gryphon that stepped between them, his regal bearing stopping the Hatter in his tracks. He caught the man with a gaze, growing in size enough to deter him from attempting to get to Alice again.

"You, mad man," he creature snapped, "You shall not touch her do you understand? Not until she wakes. In her state she would take your madness right into her own mind and become lost in it. Keep your distance of you care a shred for your life or hers.."

The Hatter backed up but not willingly. She could see the amber in his eyes was wary and distrusting. Meanwhile the Gryphon turned his attentions to Mirana once again, "We shall need shelter, quarters and men. When Lady Alice awakes bring her to me, do you understand White Queen."

Mirana could only nod as the creature led the way, taking Alice the White Knight and the Hatter in his wake.

Charlie looked at the red haired woman, his eyes wet and puffy. She was sleeping, although he didn't know how she was sleeping, but it seemed like she really needed it. He had not known what she was talking about when Miss Iracebeth had told him to leave, she had seemed so scared. Ever since Mr. Stayne had brought him there he had started thinking that maybe the dark haired man had told a fib and maybe Miss Iracebeth had been odd to him the days before Mr Stayne had become so mean to them. Whenever he had asked questions about his mother, how she had his father had met or any of those sorts of questions she had shushed him. She had seemed so sad when he talked about his mother and he thought maybe it was because Miss Iracebeth loved his father. He felt bad for that, fearful that the red haired lady who was so nice to him was sad because of him. For the days he had tried to think up ways to repay her. He helped as best he could with her chores, the gardening and the cleaning. He told her stories, stories in which a beautiful woman with red hair and a rather large head saved the day or was swept away by a wonderful prince and in turn she took care of him.

He had been so surprised when she had told him to leave that he had had no idea what to say. He just looked at her and the fear in her eyes and known something was wrong. She had wanted him to leave, he had wanted not too. His own Grandmother never paid much attention to him, his Aunty Margaret was just someone his mother had told him about but he had never met and no one else seemed to take much interest in his life other then his mother or Uncle Hector. Miss Iracebeth had no friends either, other then Mr. Stayne and he treated her very, very badly. Right after she had told him to leave, the moment Charlie had looked up and seen him in the doorway there was a blackness on him. Not the darkness like he had seen in the people in India or Africa, not something that had to do with hair colour (like his Aunty Shanti from when he was little) or with skin (like King Tumelo who had shown them around his beautiful palace and had told him wonderful stories). This was a darkness in his soul and something that had made Charlie scared on the inside. He had seen that before as well, in creatures he had seen on his travels and in kids at school who were especially cruel. He had always known to watch for the darkness, feel for it and to ward it off but when he had seen it in Mr Stayne there was more of it then ever before. Mr Stayne's eyes were blacker then they should be and the whites of his eyes were gone as he stormed towards them.

It was the Miss Iracebeth had shoved him behind her, the same way his mother did when he got to close to the carriages in the London streets. Then Mr Stayne had raised his hand and brought it down on them both. The sound was terrible, like someone snapping a twig, and Charlie had closed his eyes tightly against the pained gasp his protector let out. When Miss Iracebeth landed on the floor next to him he had jumped in front of her as best he could. Looking up he could see Mr Stayne pull a long curved knife from his belt and hold it over them. Charlie did the only thing he could think of, he threw his body across the lady's chest as he moaned softly and shielded her as best he could through his own tears. He felt the back of his clothing being pulled up and in a second he was hauled seven feet in the air to stare Mr Stayne in the eyes.

"You're not my father," Charlie cried as he tried to struggle free.

Mr Stayne let out a bitter laugh before shaking him so hard his teeth seemed to rattle in his head.

"Of course I'm not. You think I could father a horrid looking little freak like you?" Stayne sneered in his dark, deadly voice, "No, you are a little mistake. One that no father could love."

"My father loves me!" Charlie insisted through his rising tears, "My mother told me so! You're a liar!"

Mr Stayne laughed again, this time reaching up his free hand and slapping Charlie hard across the cheek. The impact hurt much more the he thought it would. Never once had his mother raised her hand to him and the only people who had ever hit him before were the boys at school and he could barely ever remember that. He felt the anger rise up in his at the sound of his false father's laughter.

"Your mother is bitch and a liar!" Mr Stayne replied sharply, "Your father is a lunatic boy, a crazy man who cares not a wit about you. Who would? Such a small, sad little disappointment, your mother is probably happy never to have to see you again."

Charlie felt his anger rising even higher and bubbling beneath the surface. Hanging in the air, helpless and at the mercy of this man who was saying such horrid things about his mother. With a snarl that sounded like the nose an angry cat would make Charlie twisted in the man's grasp, wrapping body around Mr Stayne's forearm and biting down on his wrist as hard as he could. With a cry Charlie was dropped from the height, he landed painfully on his backside and almost immediately was kicked in the side by one of the dark black boots.

Letting out a cry of pain he rolled towards Miss Iracebeth who was still on the floor. He didn't make it very far as his small leg was grasped immediately and he found himself once again hauled into the air. His struggles stilled as soon as he felt the sharp bite of steel at his throat.

"You have more spirit then I would have thought possible you little brat," Mr. Stayne hissed and Charlie could see blood as dark as pitch thickly trailing down his exposed wrist, "Oh look, your eyes even change that horrible colour. I will enjoy gutting you."

Charlie closed his eyes tightly. A thousand thoughts rushed through his head, most of them of his mother. How he wished he could see her again. He wished as hard as he could that something would stop this, that his mother would hear him and come wake him up from his horrible dream. He didn't care if he had to pretend Mr. Hamish was his father if it meant he wouldn't die right this moment. Most of all he wished not to die, not before he had seen her again. He pushed every ounce of his heart into the wish and even so it came as a complete shock when Mr Stayne dropped him for the second time. This time he landed on his shoulders, hitting the soft part of his neck with a painful crack. Dazed Charlie rolled to his back, his orange curls in his face.

"Take care of her and mind me well," Stayne sneered, "If you try to escape I will hunt you down and you will wish I had killed you right here and now."

With that the tall man stormed from the room, leaving Charlie with Miss Iracebeth, both hurt on the floor. He had crawled over to her right away, his eyes wet with tears as he saw the large red mark across her face. He knew that this was all his fault. If only he had been more patient, or happy with what he had been given. If he had not just gone with Mr Stayne, if he had only been smarter. Curling up next to Miss Iracebeth he tried to think of his mother. Surely she would come for him. Mr Stayne had been lying, he was certain of it. His mother loved him, he was sure of it. She had told him so everyday and every night his entire life. Why would she lie about that?

After that Stayne came to them everyday and yelled things at them. He hit Miss Iracebeth with his hands and while he had never hit Charlie, he might as well have. He had yelled things that he would do to his mother when she got there, things that he would do to him when he could. Charlie was amazed to discover Mr Stayne could not hurt him.

When the man tried he stopped, as if hurting him was the last thing in the world he wanted to do. When Mr Stayne had stopped giving them food he had closed his eyes and wished for food but he found that he was having trouble concentrating on it. As a second thought he had drawn it. On his notebook he drew a picture of an apple, he had ripped it out of the book and concentrating his hardest on the drawing he tried to picture it. He watched in wonderment as the drawing began to change, to become more and more real looking until he dropped the paper entirely and the apple simply rolled off the page. He was flabbergasted. Looking around for Mr Stayne he snatched it up right away and took a bite. It was juicy and ripe and perhaps the most delicious thing he had ever tasted in his entire life. He bit into it again with relish, letting the juice run down the sides of his mouth before feeling guilty. Miss Iracebeth was just as hungry as he was. Swallowing the last bit he rolled the apple up in one of the clean scarps of cloth he had made to wrap her wounds and placed it right next to her so she would see it as soon as she woke up. Suddenly, feeling as all the energy had been drained from him Charlie yawned widely. Pillowing his hands beneath his head he curled up on the floor next to her body and tried to press in close. Closing his eyes he tried to concentrate on his mother, trying to focus the happier times they were together and praying for her to find him.


	13. Chapter 13

The Thirteenth

After depositing Alice upon a white bed in a rather beautiful guest room in the high tower Mirana allowed Tarrant to stand guard in her room while she, Fairhaven, Absolem, Cheesur and the Gryphon discussed the situation at hand. She had barely recognized Alice when she had seen her in the White Knight's arms and that in and of itself did not bode well in her mind. The girl she had known back then, the one she had discussed Tarrant with so many years ago, had been young, vibrant and full of life. She had been eager to try every experience the world offered her and fearless in all things whether it be facing a Jabberwocky or declaring her love for an eccentric Hatter to any who cared to hear of it. The woman who had been pulled from the Lord Gryphon's back had been none of those things. Alice had looked worn, tired and too thin for someone her size. Her clothing was strange, a style Mirana herself had never seen in Underland. It was black in colour with a tightness that wound around the girl's waist, emphasizing just how small she was. Her legs were long and bare with scratches scattered across them and one large gash along the side. She could see the various parts of the girl's body that were bruised and battered, and those that weren't were pale with mappings of blue veins clear beneath transparent skin. All in all Alice looked as if she had been beaten. The dark circles around her eyes and the tangles of blonde hair made it clear that her journey to this point had not been a pleasant one. Mirana assured herself that as soon as Alice was awake enough to be pampered she would assign at least three servants to care for the poor girl, until then all they could do was rely on Tarrant to keep watch.

She had not wanted to leave him alone with her and certainly Fairhaven was against the idea, but he had promised so passionately that he would not touch her (only watch over her) that she could not deny him this one request. Perhaps it was seeing him look upon her with such strong emotions echoed in his eyes or maybe it was the way the guilt stabbed through her stomach at seeing them together after so many years apart, but whatever the reason she had allowed it. This was, after all, still her Kingdom.

The White Lord was quite a different matter then Alice. She knew to regard him with reverence but there was something about him that did intimidate her. The regal-ness of him and the way he looked upon Alice gave her a sense that perhaps Tarrant was not the only one enamoured with the girl from Aboveworld. He had been particularly unwilling to leave Alice alone and had only done so because she had insisted that Alice must rest. She had been pleased to see he did relent to her judgement in the matter.

They moved to the kitchens at her request so she could mix a healing salve for Alice while they discussed what was to be done. After asking the March Hare for his leave she stood on the right side of the table, looking at all those assembled before her.

"Absolem," the Gryphon stated rather pleasantly after a moment, "I am so pleased to see you. You look well."

The butterfly fluttered for a moment before landing upon the Gryphon's beak and staring at him.

"You as well Lord, " Absolem stated smoothly, "I have missed your presence upon the land."

The Gryphon laughed an almost painful way for those around him, the sound was loud and piercing "My presence has always been here. You forget my friend, I am not bound to one physical form as you are. I am actually more capable of fulfilling my duties in my meditative state then I am in this one. I am physically here for the Black Lady, to teach her and safeguard her against her own abilities. She will need guidance in her new role."

"What new role, My Lord?" Fairhaven asked eagerly, "I shall protect this Lady from all the darkness of the land."

Again the Gryphon seemed more amused then anything else, "My dear boy you misunderstand me. Lady Alice is not in danger of the darkness in that manner, she is a part of it. She IS the darkness. I am here to help her learn to control it."

That caught Mirana's attention. The shock she felt at those words caused her to drop the glass bowl she had been holding, it fell to the ground with a loud shatter.

"What exactly are you referring to my Lord?" Mirana tried to ask while controlling the tone of her voice. The glass was left upon the floor, totally ignored in favour of this new development.

The Gryphon fixed her with a look that spoke of the seriousness of the situation, "When your champion defeated my brother all those years ago you upset the balance. When the Jabberwocky died at the end of the vorpal blade, my blade, the darkness that he regulated, the darkness that he controlled was loosed into Underland. Since your champion is the one who ended the Jabberwocky's life and drank of his blood she has been recognized by the darkness of Underland as being it's chosen one. If you take umbrage with any of these facts then I suggest you re-evaluate your own role in this drama White Queen, for you are the one who chose her and you are the one who fed her the Jabberwocky blood."

Mirana observed him, looking for any sign of deceit. Finding none she asked the question that seemed to be burning in everyone's mind, "But if the darkness consumes her..."

"Then she will go mad as my brother did," the Gryphon replied solemnly.

The entire room was silent as Mirana felt the guilt in her stomach rise up. All this trouble, all for the crown that sat atop her head. She had known of the Gryphon but had never been told of the darker side. She had assumed it was because it was not her place to know. She was the White Queen and even banished from her sister's court at Crims she still had Marmoreal, her mother's homeland. Her charge was to guard and obey the law of the White Lord and she had done so to the best of her ability, she would never have guessed her sister would call upon one of the Underland Lords battle on her side. It did make sense considering how dangerous the Jabberwocky was and that he had been able to kill the Hightopp children when no one else would lay a hand on a child..

"But she is from Above," Fairhaven stated as if it were an impossibility Alice must play such a heavy role, even though he knew very well it was not.

"Which may just save her," the Gryphon replied, lifting one talon over the shattered bowl and quirking his head in amusement when it reassembled itself and jumped into Mirana's hands, "Aboveground people must exist within darkness and light their entire lives, unlike natives of Underland. Sadly most are incapable of staring into the face of real darkness and maintaining their sanity, Underland citizens are a sensitive people. This was the reason you needed Alice in the first place my White Queen, was it not?"

Mirana looked up at the Gryphon rather surprised at the polite tone he was using, she had thought him very cross with her in the throne room.

"What of her child?"she suddenly, "And of Stayne."

A darkness passed over the creatures eyes.

"Yes, I had almost forgotten them. We must retrieve the child as soon as possible. I would ask you for a champion to place against Ilosovic Stayne." he said evenly, "I would imagine the Hightopp creature would wish to do it. I do hear that parents feel some sort of connection with their young."

There was silence in the room as all there stared at the Gryphon as if he had just told them The White Queen herself would be asked to take up arms against Stayne.

"Excuse me?" Fairhaven finally stammered.

"The Hightopp. He is here is he not?" The Gryphon replied, a confused looking coming across his brow "I had thought for certain he was. They all look the same you see, after a few years at their trade. It's from the Mercury, rather sad really, consider the amount of pure energy that pours in and out of them. Hightopps are wonderful conduits for whatever they do. I should very much like to meet this child of Alice and the Hightopp, the energies of Underland have been swirling around him so vibrantly I was half tempted to break my vow of non-interference simply to see what he is capable of."

Again no one spoke, everyone seemed more or less fighting to take in exactly what was being said.

"You mean to tell us that Alice's child, the child we are searching for, the child Ilosovic Stayne has kidnapped," Fairhaven stated, enunciating every word, "That child, is the son of Tarrant Hightopp."

The Gryphon gave him a look that clearly implied that he was a simpleton before turning his attention to the others.

"It is important that the child is removed from Stayne's influence and I would say Iracebeth's as well," he continued, "With the Jabberwocky gone the dark magic in this land has been pooling within the Outlands and Stayne has become one of those cesspools. A focal point where the darkness has tried to make a new Lord and failed. He shall not be able to maintain his control forever, already I can feel the spikes in his power bursting over his consciousness. The violence he is barely holding back is slipping and he is starting to crack. It is imperative we get to the child right away before he loses control completely."

She was just about to say something when the door to the kitchens burst open. Tarrant rushed forward with wild eyes shimmering the colour of amber and his face a mask of panic, he ran directly into Mirana's arms like a small child wanting to be comforted.

"She's gone!" he cried over and over again, "She's gone, she's gone, she's gone...."

Alice slept as she had never slept before. The dreams she had seen in her head were horrible things, places were people died and mourned and sadness was portioned out like pie at Sunday tea. When she had been with Gryphon in the throne room she had agreed to it, she would take the Jabberwocky's place. She would temper the darkness, use the power it offered to keep it in control and regulate it. It was a frightening prospect but she understood the necessity of it. If darkness was a living thing in Wonderland (like an animal) it must have someone to tame it otherwise it was left to run rampant. The moment she agreed the Gryphon had done something odd, she had found he was no longer a Gryphon anymore but a beautiful man with golden tanned skin and snowy white hair and radiated light as it it were embedded in his very skin. He had smiled at her in a carefree sort of way before placing his forearms against her and leaning forward rather enticingly. She had not thought twice about kissing him then, there was just something magnetic about him, something she needed to feel to be a part of and the moment she did all the energy, all the power in her body drained from her in a rush. She tried to pull away but he would not allow it, his grip on her arms was far too tight and he held his mouth to hers, not truly a sexual violation but more of a necessity. His eyes were apologetic, even as hers were scared and she struggled a little more before her energy left her and she lost the ability to stand.

She found she was in his arms instantly, he had cradled her to his chest and was holding her securely as if she weighed nothing. Tears began to roll unbidden down her face, an overwhelming sorrow etching its way throughout her entire body and she clung to him because nothing else seemed to be secure anymore. He held her closer whispering apologizes in her ears.

"I am truly sorry my Lady," his voice was choked with emotion, "but it must be done. The Darkness which you must absorb cannot do so with the presence of light so concentrated in your soul. Do not worry, you are like I, I must have some darkness in me to exist but there must be a great deal more in your. Sadness, melancholy, all must pass through you so you might feel their influences upon the land. I had to take some of your vibrance, otherwise there would be no way for the negative emotions to pass through you. Darkness cannot exist in so much light, it is the absence of it."

"But why?" she wept into his chest, "Why do I have to feel like this?"

He stroked her hair then, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of her head, " You won't always, the light will grow within you as it always does but the darkness needs to claim you first. You must know what you are ruling, how would you govern otherwise? If you don't feel it within you you will never understand its needs. It is an entity and this is the only way to teach you to control you powers. You would fight it, do you understand my Lady? You must become a vessel to be filled. A warning though, allow it to seep into you naturally, do not seek out madness or it will rush into your emptiness and overrun your senses like water over a dam. The change must be gradual or it will control you. I shall be there to help. These are the trying times, I must see if your human body and mind can endure the onslaught and if you can control your abilities. Otherwise I should grant you this post and then you will go mad and I will have no reprieve but to kill you myself."

"But Charlie?" she whispered weakly.

"This is more important then your child." The Gryphon-man scoffed and she began to struggle in his arms.

"Fine," he replied, "I shall take the inhabitants of the White Castle and charge them with retrieving the child."

"Tarrant," Alice whispered, her eyes struggling to stay open while begging the Gryphon.

"Oh your lover," the Gryphon smiled, his human smile was strangely charming, "Fine I shall deliver the child to the Hatter, you are hardly in any state to care for the boy as it is. I take full responsibility for the boy's well being if it calms your senses. Come now with me, I suppose I should do well to deposit you at the castle as well, Stayne is drawing power, I can feel it, and he has your little one. He must be planning something. Now you rest, get better and when you wake your training shall begin."

When she did wake it was hardly training she was interested in. She felt as if she had been hoodwinked by the creature. She opened her eyes slowly, surveying the room she was in with a cautious interest. The last few days of being dropped into places and waking up alone and lost had been a harrowing experience and one she was not willing to repeat. However, after a few moments, it became rather clear she was going to be safe in this new environment. She was in a large white room similar to the one she had stayed in the last time she had visited the White Castle. She had been undressed (she hoped by Mirana) and placed within a large white bed with the blankets tucked up to her chin. Turning her head she looked at the pillow and sighed, it was darkening to a black colour concentrated on where she had placed her head and she assumed the ink must have been in her hair as well as her clothing. Still, it was a odd thing to see and she eased up into a sitting position, interested in the occurrence and its cause.

As she sat she felt the strangest wave of anger come over her. It was completely unanticipated, infuriating her even more as she turned again to see that her body (not just her head) had left a dark imprint upon the snowy sheets; as if someone had used her as a stamp upon a white paper. She felt rage snarl through her, testing her ability to control herself as she fought with the desire to tear the white curtains of the bed apart and shred the rest of the linens with the bare hands. Then suddenly it passed. The emotion seemed to just fly out of her as quickly as it came, leaving her scared and shaken but otherwise all right. Alice took in a shuddering breath, determined not to let this sudden experience cloud her mind, she had work to do. She had to find her son.

Turning around she surveyed the room once again. Large white posts that framed the bed, white walls with a tiled white floor and a large balcony. She had loved the balconies here in Marmoreal, they were truly stunning. She moved to get up, letting the blanket fall off her of her to expose her body to the warm air. There was a mirror upon the wall, not as large as the one she had seen days ago but big enough for show her full figure and she stood in front of it looking at her bare body. There were places along her ribs that were was practically black covered by a large bruise that ran across a good portion of her side, the gash on her leg seemed to be healing and the smaller scratches were also mended. She took a moment to thank god they were not infected. Her ankle was a swollen ugly purple and she winced at the pain as she tested her weight upon it. She supposed she should be grateful she could even walk, her injuries could have easily been much much worse. She looked at her body again with a mocking smile. Even horribly thin she could trace the stretch marks along her hips and breasts clearly, the white lines spanning like spider webs across the creamy flesh. Alice was aware that woman abhorred them, she loved hers just as she loved the scars of the Bandersnatch claws that had never completely faded. No, those marks were evidence of her son and she had marvelled at her own pregnancy, the way her body had adjusted to accommodate him growing within her was both primal and intriguing. She could recall every single mark.

Suddenly thoughts of Charlie filled her mind and the tears fell from her eyes, grief and sadness overcoming her other emotions completely. She bowed her head to her hands, thinking of her little boy scared and alone. She tried to picture him in her mind and suddenly it was as if she were being sucked through a long long tube at breakneck speed. She could see the land rushing by in her mind but for some strange reason she knew where she was. She knew where everything was and she could track them as they moved: the Ravens of wonderland, the crows, the darker creatures even the muskdeer grazing upon the White Queen's lawns, there was something about them that tied them to her and she could feel their nearness or far-ness as much as she could feel the pain in her head before a storm. She followed her mind and as she did she flew over the Outlands over rocky outcroppings and barren deserts, over the mountains and then finally to a small isolated cabin upon a hill that seemed to be on the verge falling over, her mind dragged her to the very door before she felt him.

Just as she went for the door she was thrown back into her own mind Alice grasped for support, gasping in the air that seemed to have alluded her for the last few moments.

She felt excited and sharp. She no longer had to wait for Gryphon's help she could go to Charlie herself. Overcome with an urge to see him she found her bag sitting near her ruined clothes, she tore it open, reaching in and feeling around for the picture. She opened the small portfolio to reveal the image to her hungry eyes. The picture was of Charlie just a year or so ago. He had grown since, a great deal of his baby fat was smoothing out, giving his face a different look to it, she could remember marvelling that she could see the beginnings of the man he would be. She bit her lip and pulled the picture to her chest. If she could keep him in her heart and her mind nothing else mattered. Taking a deep breath she made to move away, gathering her things and head towards the door. She would go to the Outlands; there was a sense in her, a calling that told her exactly where her son would be and that he was in danger. She made to leave when a spot of colour caught her eye.

She hadn't taken a real look around, she was certain of that otherwise she would of seen him. When she did she stopped breathing. Alice moved cautiously, her heart hammering in her chest as she approached his reclining form. Wonderland had been cruel to her these past few days and she would not have put it past the world to produce this mirage simply to torture her, to present her with the one good thing this world had offered her just to rip it away. A terrifying thought echoed through her head, what if this was insanity, seeing what she wanted to see even though he wasn't truly there.

As she neared him she suddenly felt rather self conscious. Gathering one of the partially sheer curtains she wrapped it around her body, twisting it into a make shift sahari as she had been taught to do so many years ago in India, she was only partially surprised when the white fabric began to turn a greyish colour and then black. Apparently she would be wearing nothing but black from now on.

She neared him timidly, her eyes drinking every detail of him in. It had been so long since she had last seen him, since she had breathed in his scent and touched his hands. She crept as close as she dared. He was sleeping apparently, his chin tucked to his chest and top hat still on his head and his clothing very much like the clothes she had seen him wear before. Gently, she reached out and took the hat from his head and placed it gingerly upon the bed, eager to see more of him. His hair was still the vibrant orange she remember and seeing it now she grinned with tears in her eyes, she hadn't realized Charlie's was a shade lighter, it pleased her and she wondered if it would darken in time. The opportunity to compare her son with his father had never occurred before and she was determined to take full advantage in case it never did again. She put her mind to memorizing everything she could of Tarrant as he was before her; soft and sleeping and perfect. His clothing was clean and much to his style, an outrageous emerald jacket with strange designs embroidered into it. His cravat was bright orange and there was at least ten other colours around the fabric itself. His shirt underneath was a coral colour and she smiled at how on him the mismatched worked. Alice took a moment to hold out the picture and examine the similarities between father and son more fully.

She had always thought Charlie's resemblance to Tarrant was uncanny but looking now she could see herself in the boy as well. The black and white image showed a child so much like the man before her but she could see that boy had a slight cleft to his chin that the man did not possess. His brow and the expression in his eyes were more like her and she could see a softness there that she'd seen reflected in her own father. The curve of her son's mouth was totally hers. The emotional tempest in her continued and she let the tears roll down her eyes. She would bring Charlie to see him, even if he wanted nothing to do with his son she would bring Charlie here so that her son might see his father at least one time in his life. So she might see Tarrant at least once more. It was a reward for setting things right, for getting through this horrid ordeal and a penance for keeping father and son from one another for so long.

Unable to resist the sudden urges that seemed to be washing upon her like waves upon a beach she dropped to her knees before him. Softly and smoothy she inched up his body so she was close enough to his mouth and then with the slightest of touches bent his chin back from his chest and pressed her lips to his.

She had meant it to be chaste, delicate and unknown. She had done it to him time and again when they had been together the last time she was in Wonderland, while he would sleep she would press her lips to his and try to pour every single emotion she had into that one point of contact with the hopes it would seep into his dreams. However this time was different. Instead of pouring emotion out it felt as if every emotion was being poured into her. Her eyes widened as gasped into his mouth. The pain of years without her, the longing so intense there were times when madness was a necessary distraction rushed and whirled through her head like dust in the wind. She felt the sorrow of nights left alone hoping every noise was a return, she felt the pain of loss, the incredible pain of losing everything and the necessity for an escape in one's own mind. The lure of it drew her in, offering her a reprieve from the cold harsh reality and she almost embraced it. The emotions continued to pour into her from their one point of contact and she could not help that sob that erupted from her mouth even she felt his lips shift beneath hers.

Just when she thought the sorrow would completely overtake her she felt his lips begin to respond to hers. Whether or not he intended it to a tsunami of lust washed over her, driving the sorrow off of her mind and dragging the sensual sensation to the forefront. She grabbed onto it ferociously, anything to force away the maddening grief and sadness that she had just been feeling, and returned his affection with great fervour. Responding to him was easy, it had always been easy. Her attraction to Tarrant was undeniable, primal and best described to others as a sense of complete oneness. The suitors at home had never even compared to him, in seven years she hadn't even allowed another man to kiss her or touch her in any way that could be considered intimate. Her dreams of romance and love were filled with him and the meagre intimacies they had shared in their short time together. But she could tell this was becoming different. There was burning sensation in the pit of her stomach, something that was growing more intense and demanding with each second she spent in his presence and soon she was acting without thought, as if her body had decided to bypass her brain. Her hands snaked up his thighs, running up the smooth material of his pants and just grazing past his groin. She heard his groan in response, his head lolling slightly as she eased up his body, climbing like a vine wound tightly around a tree. By the time his brilliant eyes opened she was already straddling his lap, her hands unbuttoning his shirt at a fevered pace while her mouth kissed and nipped his neck. To Alice the only concrete indication of his consciousness was the tightening of his hands upon the chair in which he sat and then the pressure of those same hands upon her shoulders as he pushed her gently from his body.

Her eyes met his and she was shocked at the look on his face. It wasn't one of love, or lust or any of the emotions she hoped to incite but instead fear, the fear on his face was palpable. She reared back, taking his head between her palms and leaning backwards so she was sit on the very edge of his knees.

"Alice?" he whispered softly, his eyes blinking in and out of their natural colour as she pressed her hands to him.

She could feel the emotions running through him as intensely as if they were her own, the fear, the uncertainty and the desperation that were marinated in his mind and it did not feel terrifying, instead it felt wonderful, like some sort of terrible drug and pumped through her body shoving pleasure into her veins. She felt his confusion, the madness of his mind ebbing into her through her fingertips. She gave a wild gasp, arching her back and pressing her centre into his own unconscious hardness. He responded instinctively, rising up to meet her with a moan all his own before he hands his hands on her biceps, stilling her movement in and instant.

"No, no, no," he whispered suddenly, reaching up and pulling her hands from him roughly; he was a great deal stronger then he looked, "I was told to guard you. Not to touch you, although there were no rules to keep you from touching me. Rather sexist in my opinion."

"Let me go Tarrant," she growled dangerously, "Let me go."

"I won't." he laughed in a high pitched way, "I never wanted to to begin with, but it seemed to be what was for the best. Now your back and in trouble I see. Funny thing trouble, it seems to follow you around. Did you marry trouble? Perhaps it is in love with you as well, I wouldn't blame it. You're still lovely."

The words married forced her mind back into her body and the anger left her. Immediately she realized what she had done and where she was. It was not as if she had been unaware of it before but merely had not cared, she had been too entranced in the sensations to stop herself but now, staring into his uncertain eyes, she knew the horror of what she had done to Tarrant and what the Gryphon had done to her.

"Oh Tarrant," she whispered, "Oh God, I am so sorry."

Her tears spilled over even a she brought her hands to her mouth and pulled away, scrambling off his lap and jumping to her feet. She walked away form him, scared of the reaction he incited within her. Now that she was farther away it became clear to her, the moment she had touched him something had gone into her, something dark and dangerous that mutated inside her mind and twisted her own affections. Looking around she found her ruined clothing once more. Dropping the now black curtain she took the ruined corset and slip into her hands. Throwing the corset to the ground she pulled the slip over her head, not caring if the Hatter watched. She deserved no privacy in front of him when she had just forced herself upon him. Shame burned his her cheeks even as she adjusted the black diamond that still sat between her breasts and quickly grabbed the onyx raven that sat pleasantly upon the dressing table. Grabbing it she held it tightly between her hands even as her eyes glanced to the balcony. If she was right about what everything in Wonderland had been trying to tell her for the past few days this would work and if she wasn't then she would plummet to her death. Either way she felt it would be an improvement on the current situation.

"Alice, Alice no," Tarrant cried, his eyes following her gaze, "Please, you must stay."

She gave him a smile that had nothing to do with her rather precarious mental state or the fact she had just molested with him before realizing her own insanity would have a detrimental effect on his.

"You know that belief shapes reality," she stated smoothly, stepping towards him "That if I believe in something enough I can will it into being."

"That's impossible." he replied almost lucidly, "For I've believed you would come back for years now and we would live happily ever after. I believed in it with every part of me, even the parts that have gone mad. But I know it's a dream, something to live in my head with just as you are now."

"Nothing's impossible, you taught me that" Alice said gently, her heart warming to him.

She was close enough now that she could reach out and touch him but as she did he caught her wrist in his hand, the fabric wrapped around his palms keeping their skin from touching, she grinned at him, pulling his hand to her and kissing his palm. His eyes closed and she could see the pain flash upon his features and she wondered why.

"Please don't stop believing in me," she whispered to him, "I am not myself I'm afraid, but I will be. Just promise me when I return we can talk. I can tell you why a raven is like a writing desk."

He tilted his head at her, "You know?"

"No," she shook her head with a grin, "But I am sure together we can suss it out."

She took two steps back, looking at the lost expression on his face. Gryphon and mirror Alice both had said it was wishes and belief that gave her her power. Belief to do the impossible. She was drawing her power now from a darker source, a more primal one and she could feel others tapping into it. She recalled the sensation of Charlie, her son and the emotions he was feeling. Like a network upon the land itself it appeared to her and her way was clear. Brining the onyx Raven to her mouth she whispered secret words into his body, closing her eyes and concentrating. Then with one last look she ran full tilt to the balcony. She threw the Raven before her, just as she threw herself over the edge, and believed with all her might that it would catch her.

The world tilted before her, and she could see the perfectly manicured grounds rushing up to meet her. She could hear Tarrant's scream and she could feel the wind blowing through her hair. Then suddenly the loud screech. She hit the creature's back with a hard thump but held on for dear life, a bubbling laughing forcing its way up her throat. She wrapped her legs around the Ravens body and pressed her own body as flat against its back as possible. Then , without a thought she whispered into it's ear the directions to the Outlands, the small cottage and her son.


	14. Chapter 14

The Fourteenth

He could feel her coming and coming soon. He reached down to take a long drink out of the black goblet that sat by his side. His clothing was torn and in disarray, the blood spread upon his trousers and shirt had long since dried and gave off a coppery stench. He looked around, taking in the litter of bodies. Animals, stupid little things, that had been dumb enough to wander near. Most of them had been creatures that had heeded the darkness' call, thinking they would find some kinship with him. Their bodies were all around; crows mostly (ravens were to clever to come nearer after they had seen what he had done to their brother) a few stray wolves, some dogs, lizards whoever really was stupid enough to draw near. He knew what they were doing, that they were flocking to him for a reason. The Jabberwocky had not been a total recluse, and they had formed something of a friendship, especially since the massacre of the Hightopp clan. There, in the aftermath of their combined bloodlust, the Jabberwocky had confessed that the dark powers within him grew the more he gave into them. The madness that had been caused there that day was feeding him, swelling within him and increasing his power bit by bit. The monster had described pure pleasure, a power so enthralling that Stayne had decided right there and then he must have it for his own. He had known that the death of the Jabberwocky was an opportunity, he had recognized even then that Alice possessed a power that would do well at his side and he knew that it was only a matter of time until it broke free once more. However, being bound to Iracebeth as punishment had not been expected and it had lengthened his overall plan by years. He chuckled; that in and of itself had proven to be an advantage. The boy had played his part all too well and even now Stayne could see the power of his mother welling inside the child. At first he had only seen the Hightopp clan in those round green eyes, accusing him of all the horrors they had endured at his hands. He had seen the Hatter's madness echoing through his offspring and the thought of Alice, _his Alice_, arching beneath the vile mad man. Well, it had been enough to set him in a bad mood and the local inhabitants of the Outlands had learnt how dangerous that could be.

He was still quite intrigued with the boy and saddened that stupid Iracebeth had grown so close to the little bastard. He could have played the child's father for sometime more and now all the boy was good for was bait for his mother. He grinned to himself and took another drink at the thought of Alice.

The darkness that was gathering within him, granting him this added boost of power was also in her. He could feel it pull towards her, two sides of a magnet calling out to one another and drawing their opposite in. They would be attracted to one another and if she had not been headed towards him at such a fast pace he would have been forced to move towards her. He was well aware she would find him, he had frightened the child enough that the boy was a veritable lighthouse of negative emotions: terror, fear, self loathing. He had done what he could to force the child into the belief that everything that had happened, all of it, was all his fault. Children were so gullible, it was a pity he would probably have to father one on Alice if he killed Charlie. He shook his head, letting his inky hair fall into his eyes. He had thought the idea of offspring somewhat intriguing initially and then, after spending a few days in the presence of a child his entire view point had changed. They were small annoying and overly energetic. The only children who had ever really been prevalent in Wonderland were the Hightopps. Those mad creatures had been little more then vermin in his opinion, whelping children the way stray dogs would. When he had first seen their little village on the Horenvendush day he had been absolutely disgusted. All those smiling creatures and their tiny little miniatures, some parents with three or more at a time. Such a waste and the stupid White Queen revelling in it. He had laughed at the Jabberwocky raining fire upon them and when it was finished he went through the remains and delivered the death strokes himself. Those pathetic little creatures crying, the mothers in their top hats begging for mercy in the name of whatever gods they believed in. The father's attacking him, swearing in their barbaric language and he had laughed as he had hacked them down.

How glad he was when he had seen the Hatter had survived, one survivor to carry on the grief. Creatures in Underland were a great deal more fragile then Abovegrounders; he wondered what it would take to drive his Alice mad. She would be stunning as a lunatic, he was certain of that. He would ensure she kept herself neat and clean but other then that, to see pain echoing in those eyes, to see the darkness that was encroaching on her so rapidly take her over, oh it would be perfect. He wondered why she was fighting it so badly. He could feel it in his own soul, hell the only reason he was able to place a foot hold in that power was that she didn't wholly want it. The things inside her, love and morals and responsibility, held her down. He wanted to laugh at it. It would be perfect to take her and use her, she would go mad with the dark power within in (there was no way her feeble mind would be able to control it) and he would revel in that. She would be his battery, his beautiful power source of a Queen and he would wield her power with the absolute authority a king deserved.

He wondered if _that_ had occurred to Iracebeth or her pathetic sister yet.

He had spent years studying Underlaw at his father's insistence and he knew the search for loopholes to be an exhaustive one. In the end he had found one that had always struck him, not because of its relevance but just because it had been so close to what he had needed. If a soldier of a Queen, Red or White, were to cross from one side of Underland to the other they would be elevated to the rank of their choosing. Pawn to Queen by crossing a board. He had screamed in frustration at that law, simply because he was a man and had no desire to be a QUEEN however if he were to make his Alice one and then force her to wed him he could become a King. Endgame. It was an old law, one that had been written and resulted in thousands of Queen roaming the land. Of course the practice had gone out of style, if everyone was a Queen then really no one was and there was no point in being a Queen without a kingdom. Still, he bet Alice had no idea of the rule and he was aware (all too aware) Underland would recognize her for what she was. Then again Underland had been doing that a lot lately.

He thought of Alice, dressed in robes of pure darkness upon a granite throne with him at her side. It would be perfect. Absolutely perfect. Of course he would have to kill the boy and soon. He sneered. Killing children was nowhere near as fun as adults and no matter how hard he had tried he had not amassed the amount of power needed to do it. Underland had long ago safeguarded children for one reason or another and because of it there was no way he could bring his knife down upon the child. As a matter of fact the only creature he had seen successfully murder a child was the Jabberwocky himself. He had tried to harm the child but it had been useless, even withholding food did not seem to be working on the boy. Then again the boy seemed to have inherited his mother's penchant for making loyal friends, within a days of being in his presence Iracebeth was already willing to give up her own life to protect the child. Of course it might have had more to do with his own penchant for beating her but he could hardly be blamed for that. After all, it was her fault they were in this mess. Had she simply just executed her sister when she took power initially this would all be over. He had been more then willing to go all the way to Marmoreal and take care of business before little Alice had the chance to grow up. If Iracebeth had thought of the future of the kingdom then they would have been in a much better position currently. He would have assassinated her long ago and he wouldn't have to worry about this whole, making a 'Queen Alice' business. That was the problem with Iracebeth, she was selfish, she had no regard for how he felt or his own ambitions.

Alice would be different, that he was certain of it. She would not cower in a cabin, thinking over all the mistakes she had made. She would not turn into a snivelling whining shadow of her former self. At least he had been able to respect Iracebeth at some point when she was the Red Queen, now she was no more a Queen then he was. She was a commoner. No, it was Alice who would be a true Queen of Underland, it was Alice through whom he would change the world.

He pushed himself to his feet, kicking the dead body of a dark brown rabbit out of the way. The creature had screamed when he had gutted her and he looked down at his bloody hands, he really should wash it off but it looked so good upon his fingers he decided to leave it. Animals had wisely started giving him a greater berth. At first he they had flocked to him, desperate to be a part of his court. Now they knew better. He was sure the black madness would lessen when Alice got there. The only part of it he felt troubled about was the memory loss, when he did give into the emotions he would black out and then wake with bodies littering the ground and blood everywhere. Oh how he wanted to remember those moments and revel in them. To celebrate the dark gift the Jabberwocky had given him.

He pushed himself to his feet and stalked towards the dilapidated wooden cabin upon the horizon. If Alice was coming he should clean up the place. He wasn't sure how or when the obsession with the blonde haired woman had become all consuming or when she had stopped being Um in his mind and started being Alice again. He didn't wonder why, merely accepted the situation for what it was. Um was sweet and innocent and easily plucked, Alice, oh Alice was much different. He pictured Um in his mind in a dress, her large body pressed against his. Alice's body was average but her spirit was not, she would fight him like a hellcat. She would scratch and bit and claw and scream with what he would do to her. He licked his lips in anticipation.

Throwing open the ill fitting door he stepped into the almost sideways house, looking about. There in the corner, cowering in their place, were his prisoners. Iracebeth did look worse for wear, the peasant life had never suited her. At this point her red hair fell loose around her face like a bloody veil and she looked at him with dark, accusing, tear stained eyes. Her grinned at her and she pulled back, almost as if she were scared of his very appearance; he liked it. The strangest thing was he had never been so intent on physical violence before but ever since he had taken the child from the Above his bloodlust had grown exponentially until he could barely contain it.

He stormed towards Iracebeth and she pressed her back more fully against the wall. She seemed rather energetic for someone who had not eaten and enclosed in her arms the child cowered, those green eyes staring up at him, accusing him. A surge of anger rode through him so ferociously that he screamed at the top of his lungs, digging his bloody hands into his hair and spasming painfully. He could feel his nails cut into his scalp even as some hair came out and blood ran down the sides of his head. Without thought he reached for the child, his anger ignited further when Iracebeth turned to block his hands.

"A perfect pair," he snarled at her, "A bastard and whore. Tell me my Queen at what point in this did you realize that I don't love you, that I never loved you."

He could see the pain in her eyes and marvelled that no matter how many times he told her those words they never seemed to take root, each time he screamed them at her the wound was fresh.

"I used you." he continued, circling her like a predator "I told you lies, concocted stories and you believed me, like a fool you believed me. You will your king, your subjects and even set off your sister. How does it feel to know that when I kill you no one in this world will mourn your passing, no one will shed a tear?"

She seemed to curl in around the child, clutching him to her so tightly, so tenderly that he was utterly disgusted by it.

"I see," Stayne whispered dangerously, "You love this little thing do you. Are you so desperate for company that you'd die for this ugly, horrid little mistake? Look at him. Tell me boy do you know that the woman who is protecting you so dearly killed your father's people. She ordered their murder. Dozens of them, children just like you, women just like your mother all dead because she wished them to be so. Tell me boy, what do you think of her now?"

The child didn't react, he just stared at them with those strange glowing eyes. Those eyes he hated so much. Overcome with the desire to pull the eyes from the boys sockets he lunged towards them, startled when Iracebeth moved quickly. She ran towards the window and even as he drew his blade she pushed the boy through the empty pane and began to follow. He moved swiftly, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her backwards to him while she tried to gain purchase upon the sill. The glint of steel shone brightly as he shoved it into her side, noting that she did not scream but rather gasped at the unexpected intrusion. Pulling the blade out he waited to watch her drop to the ground but she surprised him, instead of collapsing she turned on him and kicked him with a rather incredible force directly in the groin. He felt pain explode in his lower belly and he dropped to his knees with a painful cry. Through the haze of his pain he could see her moving through the window, albeit slower, but still moving nonetheless. Outside he could hear the boy's cries and the sounds of horses? Even as the pain echoed through him he smiled, a hunt was much needed, he could enjoy a hunt. It would take up time while he waited for Alice to arrive and oh what a prize he would have for his bride when she finally joined him here in the Outlands. Reaching for his now blood stained blade he brought the thick red syrup to his mouth and let his tongue run along the side. She was wounded and with a child, he grinned, his prey would not be getting far.

***

"What do you mean she's gone?" the Gryphon asked slowly, in his black eyes there was a promise of danger, as if Alice's escape was an affront to him.

Since the news the Gryphon had changed his form, morphing from a mythical deity to a rather handsome man. Before her a creature with golden bathed skin, long white hair and black eyes glared down at the Hatter, his gaze just as piercing as it had been in his more animalistic form.

Mirana held the Hatter in her arms as she would a child, something in him had been stirred and the greenish hue of his eyes and the innocent lisp of his voice indicated that he did not see the need for violence and was in a rather precarious state of panic. Even against a creature like the Gryphon (one she was lesser then,)she felt the protective instinct come over her. Gently she placed herself between Tarrant and the golden hued man, turning her back to the latter so she might face the former.

"Hatter, what has happened?" she asked as gently as she could, she noted he was not wearing his hat.

"Alice," he stated, stuttering slightly, "She woke up."

Mirana nodded as Absolem made an impatient huff. All the others were watching them intently, not really sure on how to handle the Tarrant situation, as per usual they were leaving it to her jurisdiction.

"Alright and then what happened?" she continued patiently, holding her hands upon his shoulders.

She watched a struggle take place in his mind, as if he were wrestling reality into his understand before he looked up at her with a darker set of eyes.

"The lass kissed me," he gave a throaty chuckle and a dark smile "Clever little thing to, broke the rules she did. She preyed upon me while I slept."

Suddenly his eyes switched back the amber colour lust fading to green worry within seconds, "Do you know why a Raven is like a writing desk you majesty? Alice knows someone who does."

"You let her touch you?" The Gryphon roared, grabbing Tarrant around the shoulder and brutally turning him around.

Within seconds he cried, pulling back when the red haired Hatter jabbed a hat pin through his hand. Golden coloured blood seemed to seep from the wound for only a moment before returning to his body and healing instantly.

"I did no such thing," the Hatter replied conversationally, as if he hadn't just stabbed the White Lord of Underland, "I did not let her do anything. She was upon me while I slept. I woke and she was there. Although perhaps she is still in her room, this Alice seemed like she might be a dream. My Alice wears blue and this one was terribly black. Delightful shade, black is, so much to work with."

The Gryphon, who had recovered enough to be annoyed again, moved closely to him.

"What did she say?" he asked, his concern for the situation apparent, "Was she odd to you? How did she touch you?"

"She kissed me." the Hatter replied as if he were confused with the whole idea of it, "I told her not to but the lady was adamant. If you had wanted her not to do that I believe you should have told her the rules as well sir, it was rather irresponsible that you would expect me to tell her."

The Gryphon seemed shocked at that and took a step back, "I was a fool for letting you alone with her. Where did she go?"

Tarrant seemed to think on this for a moment before a smile came to his face. Mirana watched as she opened the side of his coat and seemed to rummage for a moment before passing over a small black case to the Gryphon.

"She dropped this," he stated simply.

She gilded closer to the object along with Tarrant, Absolem, Fairhaven and everyone else in the room, desperate to see what it was even as the Gryphon opened it. His tanned hands ran over the stained outer shell and she marvelled as the blackness on the case seemed to recede, disappearing from it's surface and leaving the thing clean to the touch. He ignored the strange reaction and opened the case slowly, to reveal a portrait.

It was black and white picture of a woman wearing a rather strange set of robes with her hair drawn back and her soft eyes gazing down at a creature within her arms. The words were written in nice cursive, Alice Charlotte Kingsley and Charles Tarrant Kingsley. As her eyes moved from the familiar figure to the unfamiliar one she nearly gasped at the child's physical appearance. If the name had not given away his paternity then surely his looks did. Her eyes slid to the Hatter who had now commandeered prime viewing position of the portrait and reached to take it form the Gryphon's grasp. No longer interested the latter gave it up without a fight, placing it between the Hatter's red stained fingers. Tarrant's face gave no indication of his thoughts, the only clue to his reaction was that he moved slightly in place, holding the thing so tightly that his hands shook with the pressure. The child upon his mother's lap was eerily familiar, his hair was cut short but it clutched to his head in tight curls. The lips were from his mother, she could see that but the rest of the face was a smaller version of the man standing next to her. Despite the picture being black and white she had no doubt the child's hair was a vibrant shade of orange and that his playful innocent eyes were most likely green, it seemed unnatural for his colouring to be anything but. In the picture he smiled happily, returning his mother's adoration in equal measure. It was a nice image, intimate and full of love.

Next to her Absolem mulled, "He does take after his father in looks."

"F-father?" Tarrant managed to stammer out, "F-f-father?"

"Good Lord, he does look quite a bit like you old man," Fairhaven exclaimed rather obliviously, slapping the Hatter on the back "No wonder Stayne was after the child. The Knave hates you does he not?"

The portrait dropped from his stained hands, falling against the marble floors. Mirana watched as the glass shattered at her friend's feet. He stood stock still, as if he were completely unsure of his own hands and body, looking around he turned to the Gryphon, the red colour in his eyes screaming violence.

"What trickery is this?" he snarled, his accent so thick the words were barely recognizable, "Lies, lies... Is that what you think? That you can fool me? My Alice is gone, gone away never to return me and you show me this other Alice and this child? Snivelling, lying horrid... "

"Hatter!" the White Queen snapped.

He stopped, dropping to his knees now, his hands reaching out for the picture. He was careful enough not to cut himself as he fished it from the glassy prison. She watched as he looked at it closely, as if searching it for lies, as if the picture itself was a warning. She moved over, as Chess drifted closer to Tarrant, his playful eyes rolling around the man.

"He looks like me don't you think?" the Hatter whispered softly as a smile crept across his lips, he ran hands along the picture, "What's he like?"

"Like a little boy." replied the Cat smoothly, "Adventurous, fearless, he tells wonderful stories. He's scared of the dark and strange and very much like his mother in many ways."

The Hatter seemed to smile a the statement, pulling the picture to himself, "Does Alice love him? Is she fond of him?"

"His mother loves him, absolutely," the Cat continued, "She would give her life to protect him."

"I am sure she would" The Gryphon snarled in annoyance, "And if I cannot stop her before she confronts the Knave she will."

All eyes turned to him as he began moving towards the door, his gaze focussed on the group before him, on Tarrant in particular.

"How is she getting there?" he asked, "Last time I checked the Lady did not have wings."

"She made a raven," the Hatter replied with a smile, "Straight out of the air, threw it and there it was."

Mirana sighed, this was going to be a long conversation and she was certain Gryphon would lose patience with the Hatter. He didn't seem to be a patient creature to begin with. However he surprised her. His eyes closed and there was suddenly a blinding white light. Shielding her eyes she looked to where he had been standing and now instead of a man the large Gryphon was before her. He flexed his body, stretching his huge form. He fixed his eyes upon her sharply before cocking his head to the side.

"White Queen, if you would please retrieve the vorpal blade. White Knight I expect you to be my champion in this matter." he stated authoritatively.

They both rushed to fulfill his demands.

"What of Alice?" the Hatter asked suddenly, his eyes wide with concern.

"If we can go I might be able to arrive at the Outlands before she does. If she can already create creatures as you have claimed she has then she is adjusting to her power a great deal faster then expected. Abovelanders are known for being adaptive but I never anticipated to this degree. I am hoping that creating the raven has taxed her energy enough that we might catch up with her before she confronts the knave."

"Didn't you say she had power?" Chess asked casually, lolling around the Gryphon's head.

"Yes she does, she has a great deal of it. Too much in fact and she has methods by which to control it," he replied hotly, "So unless you wish the next time you see Lady Alice is at her funeral then I suggest you climb upon my back and we go."

Mirana did not hesitate. Within a second she was at the Gryphon's side and letting Fairhaven ease her upon his back. The knight climbed upon behind her.

"Well get on me you lunatic," the Gryphon snapped, turning his gaze to Tarrant.

The Hatter was still clutching the picture to his chest., his eyes looking up at the White Lord with such confusion she pitied him.

"I cannot go without you. You have a connection to both Alice and the child. The power she is expending is no longer in her body and she's going into a nest of Dark energy. I cannot sense her." he snapped, "Now get on my back or be responsible for whatever the hell happens to her."

He didn't need to be told a third time and within a second he had stumbled onto the large creatures back and they were off.


	15. Chapter 15

The Fifteenth

Alice's mind felt wider and freer then it had in her entire life. She felt as though she could reach out and touch the stars if she wished it. The creature upon whose back she was being ferried seemed to agree with her as she pressed her face into his soft feathers. She wasn't quite sure why she was so tired, especially after sleeping for so long but there is was and it was a challenge to keep her mind keen and aware. Her heart reached out in an act of pure desperation for the one thing substantial. Charlie. She could sense him, feel his fear and sadness and terror. She honed in on it, worrying about it and letting her own fears intermingle with her son's. The powers the Gryphon had described to her, the abilities she would have, were coming faster now. A great deal faster then she could handle and she felt their overwhelming presence before her, like a river rising up to overtake a dam. The awareness was mind boggling. She could sense the muskdeer herd down below her, each of their small amounts of darkness like beacons for her, she could sense the ravens that flew silently alongside her. The two had joined her soon after she had left and then they had becoming four and ten and before you knew it she was part of a flock. Below her she could see a growing army of dark creatures, all keeping pace beneath her as if her presence was enough to incite this loyalty. The raven beneath her, the one from her son's writing desk, did not seem to be a real creature rather an extension of her own ability. She had the feeling she could create creatures like this if she wanted but she could also infuse her own essence into others, granting them power if she wished to. The power was there, she could sense it inside her, but the control was not. When she had touched Tarrant she had not been able to control the feelings that had spread through her. She had felt the darkness in his mind, what she assumed must be sorrow and madness, and in her state of mind she had not been able to resist it. She winced against the feathers, she could have controlled him if she wanted to she was certain. she could have grasped the darkness in his mind with merely a thought and bent him to her will, especially while he was unconscious. The idea sickened her and she felt tears prick her eyes. She was a serious danger to those she loved? With the power to make them do as she wanted and the instability to stop her morals from interfering, What had the Gryphon done to her?

She felt the old emotions rise up more powerfully then before. She had guessed her own negative emotions were affected by her new abilities as they were becoming harder for her to control. When she felt lust for Tarrant it had been all consuming and rather frightening. She had barely been able to string together a real, coherent thought and in the end throwing herself off the balcony had seemed like a wonderful plan even though there had been a great likelihood she would die. And then where would her Charlie be? The selfishness of her thoughts bothered her, the lack of emotional control bothered her even more. When the Gryphon had told her they would train she had thought of something more typical, akin to the way Hector had taught her the business. No, this would be much better. She must isolate herself if possible for her own emotions were too wild to rein in and she was certain she could cause great damage and not think twice about it. Not to mention to physical strain. At that moment it was only the desire to get to Charlie that was keeping her in check. Her anger towards Stayne was so real she was sure it surrounded her in a deep haze, her sadness at the loss of her son was strong enough to entice her to take her own life. These were not her thoughts, not her emotions initially but somewhere along the line she had absorbed them so they were her own feelings now and they were running rampant through her body. She reached up and clutched the black diamond tightly in her hands, hoping it would work as it had before and show her Charlie.

"Please," Alice begged softly to the sky, "Please, please help me."

No voice answered, no signal that her pleas were successful came to her. All that was left was the overwhelming darkness that seemed to be growing within her. How she wished she could see Tarrant. How she wished she had never left Wonderland in the first place or never killed the Jabberwocky. Being forced to take the monsters place had created a greater appreciation for what it must have been like for him. To know you can control someone, to feel unending anger and sadness all the time from those around you, to sense their negative emotions. It was no wonder he went mad and fell to the Red Queen. Alice wouldn't even be surprised if the Jabberwocky's blood had created the madness she felt inside her. She cried a little more, would this be her fate? To cause pain and suffering wherever she went? The Gryphon had said she must learn to control the emotions as they ran through her first, then she would be the governess of all the darkness in Wonderland. What a horrible punishment for her minor crimes.

Charlie.

Alice gasped painfully, seeing a spike in his emotions. Her son was panicked, terrified even. Something had happened. The fear that echoed through her amplified her condition and she felt her soul reach into this new well and pull power from it. The Raven beneath her began moving a little faster, the grow below her beginning to blur. Closing her eyes she tried to concentrate on her son, to get an exact location. It was difficult, she could sense all creatures in Wonderland that even possessed a little darkness within them or were capable of feeling negative emotions. She felt ashamed that she was grateful her son was panicking otherwise she would be blind to him. His panic shone like a lighthouse to her, drawing her like a moth to a flame. But what worried her was what was near him. Approaching her son was a darkness, a mounting black hole that was seeping bad emotions and evil intent. It was so shocking she gasped at the sensation running through her, a lust and an excitement being projected from that place she was running to. Her nails bit into her palms, her teeth bit down on her lip so tightly she could taste blood. The darkness that followed Charlie was consuming others around it, growing and she could tell it was homicidal. Amazed at how accurate her feelings were she ordered the ravens to it. This was a threat, it was an accumulation of power but not in the same way her power was growing. She was a filter, the darkness responded to her and passed through her and she dispersed it. This darkness was like a blockage, as if the screen was too clogged up to let anything pass and it was growing, building pressure until she was sure it would destroy all those around it. She knew she could not let that happen. With merely a thought to call them to her the Raven pair were at her side, close enough to hear her orders.

"Go," she ordered them, "Tell those that follow us to stay back a little ways. There is something dangerous up ahead, only tell Kusmalin to follow me."

The two Ravens who had been her companions flipped over in the air, cawing out orders like generals. She watched as the flock dispersed around her, each taking their own initiative and informing those in her small army of her command. Once it was clear that her followers were at least slightly safer Alice focused in on her son. Again she found she had to close her eyes to concentrate but it was easier this time. Charlie was worried, she could feel his sorry and his yearning. In her heart she could hear him calling for her and her maternal instinct to protect him went into overdrive. The anger in her rose at the idea that this dark predator was stalking her child. This void of a creature was after her son and she would destroy it.

She drew her feelings she prepared to rein in her control. If Tarrant, with his madness, had incited such a reaction she was terrified of what this void predator would do to her. She had seen her lover and had wanted nothing more then to devour the darkness in his mind, take him in mind and body. Her lust for him was exponential, her control over her own emotions threadbare. If this new creature was more powerful then her, if his darkness exceeded her own, she was certain something bad would happen. Preparing herself she reached out for Charlie once more, using her child as an anchor for her own emotions as her Raven descended.

***

Charlie held tightly to the reins of the small four legged creature they were riding upon. He wasn't quite sure what it was when he had drawn it but it lumbered fairly well over the landscape and if he had to guess he would say it was a horse-like thingy. He belatedly wished he had drawn it with wings. When Miss Iracebeth had pushed him through the window he had had no choice but to watch as Mr. Stayne stabbed her with his large knife. He couldn't really remember if he had screamed or not (he thought he might have) but he did know he had looked through his book very quickly and found a drawing of an animal that could carry them. He had never done it before with something that big, not a thing that was supposed to be alive either (most everything else had been food or blankets) but he ripped the picture out of the book, held it to his chest and hoped with all his might. When he felt the paper start to grown heavy he threw it from his body, tossing it to the ground and watching as the creature crawled from the page in a funny way before it stood before him. A moment later Miss Iracebeth had fallen through the window and he had dragged her onto his imaginary horse and he had told the animal to run as fast as it could as far as it could.

Even now it moved without getting tired although he was really, really tired himself. Making a thing like a horse took more energy then making a thing like an apple and he wanted to just crawl into his bed and fall asleep. Staying awake was extra hard but he found that if he fell asleep the horse would slow down and not wanting to let Mr. Stayne catch up with him he decided to stay awake.

A moan from Miss Iracebeth drew his attention and he tried his hardest not to cry. The side of their horse was already bright red with her blood and even though he had taken off his own cloak to wrap her wound he could tell it was already soaked through. She was barely staying on the creature and her face was even whiter the usual. He had no idea how to help her. He had tried drawing her all right and wishing with all his might the wound would go away but it hadn't helped. More then that trying had made him feel so sick he had thrown up. The air was getting colder and he knew that was bad. If they didn't find somewhere safe soon he was scared Mr. Stayne would find them and kill them. He nearly teared up thinking about that man. He had looked so scary when they had escaped. His eyes had been as black as ink, with no whites left and when Mr Stayne had scratched his own face the blood that came out wasn't red, it was as black. It bothered Charlie. He had seen many people with dark skin before or even dark eyes but this was nothing like that. Those people had been real, Mr. Stayne wasn't real anymore. He was a monster that didn't bleed real blood or feel real feelings. When they were running away Charlie had seen all the dead bodies around and had seen the look Mr Stayne had got in his eyes. He was going to kill them and as afraid as Charlie was there was a part of him that kept screaming not to give up, a part of him that knew his mother was looking for him and it was that part that kept him moving. He concentrated on her, thinking about her smile or what she smelt like and that they would be together soon if he could just get away from Mr. Stayne.

Another moan came from behind him and then a gasp. He turned as quickly as he could even as the horse was moving.

Miss Iracebeth was slumped over, her small hands trying to cover the blood leaking all over them.

"Let me go," she gasped softly, her voice barely a whisper, "I'm only slowing you down."

Charlie's brow furrowed angrily, "Your staying right where you are. If Mr Stayne finds you he's going to kill you."

A dark chuckle came from her red lips and he worried that her lips had not seemed so red before, "He's already killed me boy. He's just taking his time doing it. Please Charlie, let me down and get away."

"No," Charlie replied angrily, "We're doing good, we're escaping together."

She shook her head, "No, we're prolonging his chase. He's going to find us and then he'll kill us both. I couldn't beat for you to die."

"Why?" Charlie asked, his own tears now staining his cheeks, "Why have you been so nice to me? No one else was but my mother ever has been. I don't understand."

She seemed to smile at that and reach forward, wrapping her arms around him, "Because you were kind to me. We were both tricked by Stayne although it was my fault I was. All you wanted was a father. I wanted power. In all these years I had never thought of ever having children, children are rare here boy, no one ever has them that I've known and I was responsible for the deaths of dozens of them. I am not good person but even after you knew that you still helped me. You're still trying. If I had known that children were like you I think I would have very much liked to have one for my own."

Charlie tightened his grip on her. He could hear her breath coming out in shallow pants.

"Please, my Mummy will come and everything will be all right," he sobbed, "Please just don't die!"

He felt her tighten against him as well, as if she were holding on to him. He closed his eyes, feeling the exhaustion sweep over him again and again. he had never been more tired before, he was certain of it but he just wished as hard as he could she would be all right. That his mother would find him. That everything would be fine. The horse kept moving, even as it's pace slowed but he didn't care. They would run for as long as they could and he would stay with Miss Iracebeth for as long as he could but he was scared that it wouldn't be good enough. He had never had a friend before and he would do everything in his power to make sure she didn't die.

***

Son, son, son.

The word echoed through his head, all the voices there were singing it, screaming it, shouting it. He was considering words that began with the letter S.

Only one word really but it was a big one. Son. He had a son.

It didn't seem real and for Tarrant that often meant it wasn't however the White Queen was on front of him (his hands were holding onto her rather tightly) and he was riding on a large lionish creature contemplating the thought that he had had a son. He wanted to Futterwaken. He also wanted to cry. It was perhaps the most terrifying news he had ever received in his entire life. There was a child, his child, Alice's child. The child was running around, breathing and eating and sleeping and playing. He had a child, another Hightopp, who was _living_. Then there was Stayne. What the Gryphon had said was true? That Stayne was trying to kill the child. Kill his son. Vibrant anger, stronger then any he had ever, felt rushed through him and he tried to quell it. Stayne would not touch his child. He would kill the Knave first.

Charlie. Charlie Tarrant.

He calmed at that. Alice had named his son for him. Of course she had given the boy her last name, Hightopp was not an Above name and he could hardly blame her for that but he did blame her for other things. Once all the parts of his mind accepted that he did indeed have son the question arose, why hadn't she told him? Of course his love for Alice was still intact (he was certain nothing in the known universe could strip him of it) a sense of betrayal was present as well and it made him stomping mad- angry- mad. She had not returned when she learned she was going to have the boy and to have their child and not return to him made it worse. Sadness washed over him, perhaps she thought he would be a bad father. Perhaps she felt her son was better off with no father at all then one as mad as he was. He banished the thought. Alice would not do that. Alice was braver then that.

Alice.

Gone and throw herself off of a balcony and using dark magics like they were as common as scones at a tea party. He knew he should be horrified by her but he wasn't. He worried over her. She had looked so lost when he had pulled her away from him. One minute she had been upon him igniting a fire burning in his veins so fiercely that he had wanted to throw her down on the bed and take her right there and then, the next moment, a loss. She had looked at him as if she had no idea where she was or what had just happened. He knew that look well enough, madness could see madness as plain as day. His poor Alice was going mad. If they didn't get to her, if they let her face off against Stayne alone, there was a good chance she would die. He bit down on his lip. She would simply die, pass away into nothingness never to be seen again. He would not let it happen, he would never let it happen. The idea of losing her forever was like swallowing acid, burning its way down and eating at his insides. All the anger and pain he felt about her hiding their child meant nothing to the overwhelming pain that losing her would bring and he knew he wouldn't survive it.

A new idea formed in his mind, one that he had not hoped to entertain before. He would marry Alice. Marry her and keep her safe and happy in his own house or where ever else she wanted. He would help her raise her son and if she was really, truly mad he would love her all the more for it and make her as content as she could be. Perhaps there could be other children. More children with the Hightopp name and soon the clan would grow again and they could be happy. A lovely dream.

The wind tugged at his hat and he released his one hand to take it off and hold at his chest as the Gryphon sped through the skies.

Words that began with the letter S. Son, smile, saviour, sacrifice. Stayne

He could save Alice. He was certain of it. Stayne would not take this from him the way he had taken the Hightopp clan. He would not, he could not. She could not suffer the way he had seen the rest of his family suffer, disappearing behind a wall of fire and screams. She had done so much for them already, endured so much and to be forced to bear all the horror Underland had to offer, to be made the next Jabberwocky, to forever tiptoe along a tedious line between control and chaos, it was not fair.

His mind wandered as they flew along. The Gryphon creature was an unwelcome addition to the White Court and Tarrant found he did not like him very well at all. He seemed arrogant, high handed and had made it clear that his only concern was Alice, not the child. He wondered if perhaps the Gryphon was to blame for the current situation and if the creature had done his duty in the first place then perhaps none of them would be in this predicament. Keeping his temper in check for just a moment he looked upon the others. Their reactions had been odd, Mirana was decidedly silent about his son. Fairhaven had been annoying as always and both Absolem and Chess had apparently already known. He worried that there was some reason it had all been kept from him, that they had thought he was incapable of handling it.

He looked out at the spanning ground beneath him. Underland was spread across them in it's predictable checker board pattern and he wondered if the had passed over Witzend yet. His childhood home had been full of good memories. Even the bad ones were hard to banish. His home, his father's home. His mother. A world away from the horror and never ending sadness. He looked down and resisted the urge to jump off the creature.

It had been long since he had seen his own home. Then again, why would he want to.

His mind was drifty today, in the clouds. It had been a long time since they had had a war and while he hadn't gotten any older (time still refused to speak to him and then he had given the rest of his to Alice) he could still recall what it had been like. Being part of the resistance gave him a purpose and after that Alice had done the rest. For years now he had been making hats. Hats for her. It made him wonder if being a Hatter was his role or rather his role was being Alice's Hatter and that's why it had calmed him. Most of his hats had been for her. Most of his thoughts had been for her. Most of his emotions had been for her as well.

He loved her.

It was so strange to think of, loving someone after everything had gone away....

He pressed his head against The White Queen's back in a placating gesture.

Would she invite Alice to stay?

"Do you think they're alright?" he asked Mirana, his voice laced with innocent emotion.

"I am sure they are." she replied confidently, "After all, Lady Alice is the same one that defeated the Jabberwocky and gave me my crown back."

"This would be a great deal easier if we had the Oraculum," he replied.

The Queen nodded, all too aware that the loss of the ancient scroll all those years ago had been quite a blow to their side. Then again, scrolls like that did not just disappear.

"Do you think she cares? " he asked, softer this time "About us? About me?"

He felt the Queen tense beneath his grasp, the wind blowing her white hair all around his face. He was reminded of Alice and those nights where she had laid herself just above him, her hips resting on his, her hair a golden curtain shielding them from the world and her smile enigmatic and teasing. He felt a sadness stab at him thinking of her life that, happy and playful and carefree. Things had changed, things had changed so badly.

A curious thought passed through his head. His all too clear head. He could think. He could have curious thoughts without the screaming of the other voices interrupting him. Even in this turmoil of Alice and Charlie the notion he had had very few mad thoughts came to his mind so suddenly that he was shocked he had never contemplated it before.

"I'm not mad," he whispered to the Queen.

This time she turned around, looking at him through skeptical brown eyes.

"Well, I am," he amended with a high pitched laugh, "But not as I was before. Not as I was when Horunvendush day came or on Frabjous Day. I can think in straight lines when I want. I can THINK."

Her mouth dropped open and it seemed her composure was lost. Tarrant was glad no one but him was there to see it. Her perfect red mouth worked for a moment before she stared at him, ready to comment.

It was that moment the Gryphon chose to drop the sky, avoiding two black bullets that seemed to whizz by them at an extraordinary speed. Upon the clouds their large transport skidded to a halt and he was pressed into her back again almost painfully. He tilted to the side, looking to see two large black ravens flapping in the air before Gryphon, their black eyes intense and deep. They flew around his large head squawking and cawing at him loudly, he watched with a furrowed brow as they came to to fly along side their group and the Gryphon began slip lower, heading towards the ground.

"What is happening?" Tarrant asked, his eyes widening as he saw the dark trees rush up to meet them.

"Lady Alice sent us away," the female bird told him sharply, "She told us to find the boy and take him to safety but he is being hunted. We and two others managed to track the void monster as far as the cliffs."

"He killed our companions," the male continued, his scratchy voice choked with emotion, "We must find the boy."

Tarrant felt the cool madness of his mind begin to rise once again and he smiled sadly at his brief flirtation with sanity. It had not lasted long. Perhaps it would come for tea again.

"Where are they?" he asked darkly.

"We are heading the the source of the darkness at once," The Gryphon called, "Hatter, I warn you, the closer you are to this darkness the more likely that your madness may spread. Keep tight hold on your own mind for it may be pulled from your grasp without you even knowing it."

He nodded solemnly even though the Gryphon could not see him and pulled his hat down on his head tightly, pressing it there as though it's presence along could keep his mind in its proper place.

He had a nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach as they headed down towards the trees and then along the more mountainous regions of the Outlands. The mountains were cold, reddish in colour and nothing ever grew there. They spread before him like a wall of ugly jagged spikes, unforgiving and ominous. Even as a child it had been one of those imaginary punishments his parents had threatened with, that if he were naughty he would be sent to the Outlands. It was where those who were no longer fit for society went, the mountains merely a natural wall to keep the evil out. It bothered him, the idea that Alice and his new son were there somewhere, among the horrid terrain. The feeling in his stomach grew a little more intense and he pressed his free hand to it through his jacket. He wanted nothing more then for it all to be over. He longed for a time where he could talk to Alice and this child and try to make sense of it for even his nonsense was confusing in this situation and he had a feeling it was about to get worse.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Hey everyone, thanks for being so patient with me. Mid terms are coming up as well as the OSSLT (standardized test) so it's been hard to update. Thanks so much for keeping up with the fic, sorry for any mistakes that might be here. All the best.**

The Sixteenth

Charlie tried as hard as he could to keep moving, even as his legs ached and his feet felt like there was lead bound to his shoes. He was still really scared, his heart was beating so hard he was sure it would go right through his chest and he could not catch his breath in the slightest. He had heard once from someone that being scared gave you more energy then you would normally have and at this moment he was very thankful for it. Every step of the climb took away a portion of the little energy he had left and at this point he wanted nothing more then to let everything go and give up. It was only fear of Stayne that kept him from doing so.

He had left Miss Iracebeth back in a hidden cave awhile ago. Well, the cave had not been well hidden until he had draw a cover for it and he was sure if he got too tired it would disappear the same way their horse had but it was all he could do in this situation. After all, Mr Stayne was after him, not Miss Iracebeth and the lady was right, it was hard to move with her when she was badly hurt. She had fallen asleep a few hours ago upon their horse and even after she stopped bleeding quite so much she still hadn't woken up. Charlie worried she was dead and the thought of it brought a whole new round of sobs. He had never been more miserable in his entire life. He could barely remember all those days ago, sitting in the gardens waiting for Mr Hamish, worrying that the man wouldn't like him. This time he had been so upset with the idea of calling Mr Hamish his father. Now he would trade a ride back home to his mother for a thousand Mr Hamish's. But he knew that was silly, there was no mother or Mr. Hamish here. Here he was alone with Mr Stayne and too tired to fight back. The idea that he could create things was too new in his mind and he was aware he couldn't hold the forms without concentrating. If Mr. Stayne caught him his power would not help him. If only his mother were here.

Even though it made him cry he tried to think of her it was better then thinking about how close Mr Stayne was to finding him or that he could die on these mountains very, very soon. He could remember her stories and how she had told him about this father and how wonderful and brave and handsome he was. He had wanted so much to have a real father, one of his own and not a Mr Hamish that he was stupid and had gone off with a stranger. The idea of fathers was a bad one now, Mr Stayne, Mr Hamish both men who were willing to be his fathers were not people he would ever want to call his own. In his mind Charlie decided that father's were a rotten sort and he was better off with one really wonderful mother then any of the fathers he had been given. It angered him, all his mother's stories of a man who loved him and wanted him. A man who lived in this world apparently. A man Mr Stayne said was totally bonkers. He tried not to think about it, it was much better to focus on thoughts of his mother and trying to stay hidden. His mother was coming for him, she wasn't here yet but he knew she would be soon. No imaginary fathers, just his mother. And she could save him, he was sure of it. She could do anything.

A few rocks fell from above. Startled by the noise, Charlie pressed his body as close to the rock wall as he could, wincing when one of the larger ones smashed against his shoulder. The rain was starting again, the sky was turning a dark black and he knew it wasn't just the weather. He could feel something was wrong. Every since he had been brought to this place he felt more at home than he ever had in London. He knew when things were going bad and when things were going good. He knew when his mother was coming and that she was looking for him even though no one had told him so. He just knew. Just like he knew that Mr Stayne was very, very close and that he was being hunted, not Miss Iracebeth, just him.

He had stopped making wishes, finding himself to be just to tired to do it anymore. He wanted everything in the world to just disappear, to go away and for him to wake up and be in his bed. Still, he moved on. Even though he knew Mr Stayne would get him sooner or later, the desire to see his mother at least one more time was fuelling him forward. It was like he could feel her and was rushing to her just as she was rushing to him.

As the rains began he tried not to shiver. The clothing he had worn to this place was long ruined and in its place were clothes Miss Iracebeth had mended. Pieces of his trousers had torn off and there were holes here and there. His shirt was dirty and unkempt and he had left his jacket with Miss Iracebeth. He wanted to laugh as the water began to weigh down his hair, which had grown to his shoulders now and was just as bright and orange as it had always been. His mother had always been so particular about it, she would laugh to see it like it was. He reached over and pushed it out of his eyes as best he could, wishing he had made a knife so that he could cut it off, or at least so when Mr Stayne found him he'd be able to fight a little bit. The man was so big that it seemed impossible that he would be able to fight him off if he came looking.

"Where are you boy?" a loud voice seemed to boom all around him.

Charlie's breath caught in his throat as he scrambled up a few more rocks and pulled himself to the top of one of the ledges. Searching frantically his eyes sought out any place to hide upon the barren landscape but with few options he simply crawled out to a nearby ledge and began edging upon it.

Looking down seemed a rather silly idea but he couldn't stop himself. Below him was a steep incline, enough so he could see the bottom of the rocky outcropping but not shallow enough for him to climb down. He closed his eyes tightly, clenching them against the dizziness he felt as he continued to slide his feet sideways. Suddenly he heard the sound of heavy feet scrambling and a cold sensation washed over the back of his neck.

"Where are you?" the gravely voice whispered into the breeze, "I can SMELL the fear. You stink of it."

Charlie tried to be so quiet that he hardly breathed. Every part of him begging Mr Stayne to move on and overlook him. He crouched low, turning his head towards the noise to see where it was coming from. Within his sight he could see what looked like a large dark creature rounding over the ledge. Watching, he was horrified to see Mr Stayne round the bend. He looked different, long streaks of red ran down the sides of his face and his hair looked greasy and oily , like he had stopped washing it. Large portions of it had been torn from his head and Charlie could see where he was missing huge chunks from his head. His skin was pale and sick looking and he could see dark veins running all over his face as if the skin in his cheeks had gone very thin. He crouched low, his long limbs folding up on themselves and Charlie looked around fearfully trying so hard not to be seen.

"Sing a song of six pence," his voice wavered, singing in a low and dangerous voice, "A pocket full of rye. Four and Twenty black birds birds..."

Charlie closed his eyes, his breathing tightening. He was terrified, his eyes were riveted on the man before him. Suddenly their gaze met and he could see that Mr Stayne's eyes were as black as night with no while in them at all.

"Baked in a pie" he growled just as he launched himself at the ledge.

***

Alice dropped to the ground, watching as the raven she had been riding on disappeared as she did. She paused to reach down and pick up the small figurine where it had landed among the rocks, holding it tightly in her hands. Her eyes scanned the large region, looking for anything. Her own worry had gotten the better of her, bringing the rains forth but she was determined to keep in within her control. A light drizzle was soaking the land, darkening the bright orange mountain range a darker amber. It was a rough place, and she found it was hard even as she attempted to keep her footing on the loose rocks. Her eyes wandered through the rocks in the failing light, looking for anything. She could sense Charlie up until the void had moved too close, at that point her own panic had taken over and by the time she had calmed herself enough to concentrate the two were too closely intermingled for her to tell Charlie from the one hunting him.

Alice began to climb the rocks, heading towards the incline with a single minded determination she was not willing to push aside. She could sense him. Her son was somewhere nearby, she could feel him.

"My Lady," a voice called out.

Turning Alice followed to sound to the dusty area where the trees were thinning out. Her eyes sought out Kusmalin and he moved towards her the moment their eyes met, obviously unafraid of whatever was near them. Alice watched him approach fearlessly even as she could sense the shifting and morphing hole of power before her,

"Can you feel it?" Alice asked, turning her head to look up the mountain face.

"Yes," the stag replied evenly, "A dark absorbing power."

"How does one get like that?" she whispered, more to herself then her companion.

"He was seduced by the evil and allowed it to be a part of him. We all hold the potential to become what that monster is Lady Alice, your duty is to guard us against it." Kusmalin explained solemnly.

Alice nodded gently, reaching a hand and placing it upon the stags back for support. She let her eyes flutter closed, trying to pinpoint the feelings in her mind and soon she had swung herself upon his back. She bent the top of her body against his neck, letting her weight hang as if being limp would drag the energy in one direction or another. Her hair hung down in a sheet, her clothing draped loosely on her all too skinny frame as she tried to calm her racing heart and concentrate on the feelings she had had before. In the throne room Gryphon had told her the key to all of this was concentration, to learn to banish her own emotions and focus on the sensations running through her. She had to learn to recognize the feelings without allowing them to become a part of her. This was the only way she could control the darkness just as he controlled the light. She let her mind expand, moving outwards to touch all those living things around her. She could see how the Gryphon was so detached, she could sense the darker emotions of all those around her form the smallest plant to Kusmalin below her. The she felt it. Another mind reaching out to hers. It was Charlie and he was panicked. She brought that emotion to her, let it take her in and lead her to where she needed to be.

"Go," she ordered the deer, pointing him in the right direction.

***

Tarrant had no idea where to start. The White Queen, Fairhaven, Chess and the Gryphon had landed upon the rocking ground with hardly an impact and had dismounted quickly. Now they were all standing among the rubble, eyes scanning the plain orange rock, trying to shield themselves from the rain. Tarrant took a step forward, then a step back then a step forward again. He had the strangest feeling. Not a mad feeling or that sensation of something overwhelming him but rather a calling, as if someone somewhere were reaching out for him. The others seemed to mill together but he turned to the side, facing the outcropping of one of the rather lower ledges while all other seemed to be focused on the mountain as a whole. Tilting his head to the side and pulling the brim of his hat down to shield his eyes from the rain he focused on a certain ledge.

"Tell me," he pondered outloud, "Why is raven like a writing desk?

The loud, high pitched scream of a child was the only answer.

***

Alice rushed up the side of the mountain, Kusmalin barely slowly with the incline, gaining purchase upon the slope as surely as he would on a flat plain. She could sense something, something dark and eager and as she past a small cave she paused her ascent and moved to a cliff face. Furrowing her brow she moved to the reddish rock running her hands along the surface of it. There was something here, something that called to her in a way that made her mouth water. She realized belatedly she had not eaten in a very long time and her stomach growled loudly at the promise of sustenance. Moving slower she let her feet feel the unevenness below and reveal in the sharp ground. She felt open, as if every part of her was able to reach out into the fabric of Wonderland and touch upon the threads. She knew she should continue on but the draw was too great, something was pulling at her and she had to listen. Reaching over she pressed her body against the rock, her ear against the stone wall. Mentally she reached out, pulling the energy to her and to her shock she nearly toppled through the wall. The face of it gave out from underneath her and Alice watched as the entire thing shrunk to the size of a normal sheet of paper, wafting in the wind. Desperately she reached forward, grabbing it even as the rain hit it a caused the ink to run. Her eyes devoured it, taking in every single pen stroke with rapt attention. Her fingers ran over it, taking the ink with them as they did. This was Charlie's, she could tell and she pressed it to her chest as if it could act as a substitute for its creator. Slowly Alice's eyes drifted to the cave that had drawn her and the new entrance that had been created.

"Charlie!" she cried, rushing forward eagerly, her eyes searching the bleary darkness.

Instead she stopped short, before her was one of the more gruesome sights she had ever seen. There was a body there, a figure about the same size as hers curled upon the ground, wrapped in a stinking blanket. As she stepped closer she felt the draw, there was something dark in the air, permeating every breath and she felt it rush inside her, infusing her blood with it's call. She neared the figure, closer and closer until she was kneeling by its head, then with a careful hand she pulled away the blanket and gasped.

The Red Queen laid there, as still as a corpse but not quite as dead as one. She reached forward, her hand wavering as she placed it upon the woman's large head. The Queen was unconscious, her breath coming out of her chest in shallow pants. Pressing her hand into the blankets yielded a red palm and bringing it close to her nose and then touching her tongue to it Alice realized soon enough it was blood. A great deal of it. Bending in closer she was nearly a hair away form the woman when the Red Queen opened her eyes. She fell backwards, rocking on her heels and landing on her backside as the woman who had tried to have her killed (twice) looked at her through fading eyes.

"Um is that you?" she whispered gently, astonishment evident, "What's happened to you?"

Alice felt her heart grow cold and the almost drunken sensation clear her head. She pushed herself to her feet and grasped the anger that was growing within her now, wrapping herself in it like a shield.

"You happened," Alice replied coldly, "You and your insanity and your goddamn Jabberwocky happened and look where it's gotten you. And to what end? So you could take my boy, my son the only thing you and your knave left me with? So you could torture him and keep him from his mother? You're both monsters the two of you and I don't care what it does to me I am going to enjoy taking your lives."

"No," the Queen gasped, reaching out one small hand, "No, I never took your son. It was Stayne, he did this all. He took Charlie, I tried to keep him safe, oh I tried..."

Alice paused, her eyes narrowing.

"Where is he?" she growled, "Where is my son?"

As if by call he air was filled with the sound of a scream and Alice felt her heart turn cold.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who has been so wonderfully supportive. You people are absolutely amazing. This is going to be the second last chapter. So stay tuned... **

The Seventeenth

Charlie screamed as loud as his could. Up until this point and done his very best to be brave but when Mr Stayne had reached over and grabbed him by his hair, hauling him off the ledge he had no choice he did the first thing that came to mind, that was screaming. He had heard in school that when a baby animal was scared or hurt it usually made a noise to alert its mother. He wasn't sure if that's why he did it when Mr Stayne grabbed him or because it hurt so very, very much. He imagined it didn't really matter either way, there was no mother right to to rescue him. Only Mr Stayne, himself and dark mountain.

Mr Stayne held him tightly in his hands and with his free hand slapped him across the face.

"Go ahead you little rat, " he growled, smiling viciously "Scream again, tell your mother exactly where you are."

Charlie struggled as the man dragged him across the ledge, looking over and scanning the area. He was shocked at how Mr Stayne looked, not only was his appearance like a nightmares but his body seemed wrong, ever more wrong then before. His gloves looked more like claws and when he smiled Charlie could see his teeth were bloodstained and pointed. He wanted to cry. He had see creatures like Mr Stayne in his fairy tales and in a great many stories; they ate little boys. He wanted nothing more then to run.

"Look there boy," Stayne hissed, "Your heroes have arrived, too little too late."

Charlie followed the man's gaze to where an amazing creature had landed. His mouth nearly dropped in awe as he watched the animal with a smooth eagle's head and a large lion's body landed. It made him wish he was upon the back of that creature or that had drawn such a creature his own to ride. A woman got off of the lion thing and landed upon the ground. She was a beautiful woman dressed totally and completely in white. He could see from here even her hair was white and the small crown on her head told him exactly who she was. Next to her a knight, the likes of which he only had invented in his head. He, liked the woman, was dressed in silver and white and he carried a long shimmering sword. Then he caught sight of a cat that hung in the air like a leaf on the breeze and a wonderful blue butterfly. He smiled, he loved blue butterflies. Whenever he went to the part there was always one that flittered around and he used to write stories about it. However, his eyes were soon diverted from the butterfly when it landed upon two birds. There were two large black ravens circling near the creature; they swooped down playfully and then went to follow another man dressed in bright clothes with eye catching hair. Charlie's breath caught up in his throat as he looked on at the man who seemed to step away from the rest of group and move more towards where he and Mr Stayne were located, almost as if he had seen them. His lips were moving and Charlie found himself wondering what the man was saying.

"Ah, you noticed did you?" Stayne mocked darkly, lifting him and and holding Charlie straight over the edge of the ledge.

He looked down, seeing only jagged rocks beneath. He immediately ceased his struggling. Stayne didn't care, he was loud and demanding, laughing in a way that frightened more then anything else.

"You see him there? The madman talking to himself," he growled, "That man is the one you've been searching for, that's the father you wanted. A daft lunatic of a father for a pathetic weakling of a son. Well at least he gets to see you once, more then I can say for your mother. When I beat her I will tell her how you cried when you died and don't mistake me boy, I will hurt her and there is nothing you can do to stop me."

Stayne extended his hand, turning Charlie to look directly at him. His black eyes glowering down and wicked smile upon his face.

"Goodbye son," he grinned.

Then he let go.

***

Alice ran, she ran as if her feet did not touch the ground and her heart was breaking. The sound of her son called to her like a Siren song, over jagged rocks and over steep bluffs she flew. She had left the Red Queen at the first sound of Charlie's distress and then, from then on, she flew like the wind. No longer caring about anything but getting to him.

She had attempted something new and even that frightened her, feeding her adrenaline rush and forcing her forward. When she had seen the Red Queen, when she had seen the death hovering over her like a fog she had held it off. She knew the woman would survive, not well, not comfortably but she knew that death would be held off. The abilities were coming more quickly now, she could control them to some extent and they were becoming stronger the closer she got to the void, but the stronger they were the harder they were to reign in. When she had seen the Queen before her she had wanted nothing more then to eat the death all around, revel in her passing and take the remaining life from her body. She knew it was her role, to control the passage and staving off death as not really any sort of courtesy, if anything it was painful. She would bleed without ever ending, she would suffer without dying. It would just never end, as if her life was being held in place despite the desperation that it should slip away.

She drew herself in as she moved, within a few moments she was just at the edge, directly above them. She could see Stayne, she could see the blackness coming off him in waves. Shocked at just how he looked she gathered all the power at her disposal to her, calling in every ounce of her abilities that she had access too. Her breath caught in her throat as she neared them, trying to be quiet enough to keep him from noticing.

Then she saw Charlie. He had grown. She nearly laughed with joy at the sight of him. His hair was long, so much longer then she usually kept it and his clothing was in a terrible state. She could see a red mark across his cheek and scratches upon his body, causing her anger to ignite and burn within her. The idea of that monster touching her baby ignited a mindless fury she could barely contain. She crept along the ledge, her knees scrapping across the rough stone, just far enough where she could reach him. She prepared herself, ready to grab him when her world went pear shaped.

Alice watched in horror as Stayne's hand, the hand that had been supporting her small son so precariously, suddenly opened. She couldn't move as she saw Charlie's arms and legs kick into the air, hands desperately reaching for her. Without thinking she flew after him, throwing herself over the ledge towards her falling son, very aware that there was no possible way she could get to him in time.

She saw Charlie spot her, she saw the look on his face. He was terrified but he didn't scream, his pale skin looking all that but paler and his green eyes wide and staring at her as he fell farther from her by the second. She saw him hit the rock face and heard the sickening crack of his small body against one of the jutting ledges. All around her she felt the air reach out to support her, catching her and slowing her descent even as she tried to hurry it. Above her she could hear Stayne laughing and around her the sounds of screams.

He hit again, this time his small side impacted with a slated rock at the bottom, an impact that had him rolling another ten feet before coming to a stop. Landing herself might have been painful and she could recall something like pain, but instead of slowly she crawled over the rocks, following the crimson trail that seemed to be leading to her baby.

Others were coming, she was certain of it. She could sense the energy of others around her and the screams. She could see the ravens both silent for once as they landed across from her. They looked upon her with black eyed pity. She scrambled to Charlie, her arms reaching out immediately. She was at his side in an instant, her eyes swimming over him through tears as she stared down at his small face. He was in a bad way. She had seen people in accidents before, gunshots, stabbings, even one man who had been crushed but this much worse in her mind. This was a child. This was her child. Her son lay upon the wet rock face looking for all the world like a marionette with his strings cut, arms and legs bent at strange angles, eyes wide and unseeing.

"Charlie?" she cried, almost afraid to touch him, "Charlie? Can you hear me?"

There was no answer, just his horrible silence. She eased him into her arms, pulling him to her and cradling him against her chest. He said nothing, he did nothing. A life sized doll to be bent and twisted. She reached out mentally to feel him as she had the Red Queen and could find nothing there.

A loud keening noise filled the air, long and low and unending. It took her a moment to realize it was her own voice. Her throat let out noises she hadn't known she could make, the sound of a mother mourning her child. She curled her body around him, her knees pulling up to tuck him in her lap and her back bending around her, as if her encasing him within her body could give him life again just as it had initially. She rocked back and forth, whispering prayers to the sky, begging for her child. She could feel the hot tears on her cheeks and she didn't know how long she sat there even as the heavens heard her pain and opened their own hearts, pouring grief upon her. Realizing she was not alone she looked up, not at all surprised to see the others standing there. The White Queen seemed to be crying, holding onto the White Knight who also looked traumatized. Chess and Absolem were next to the Gryphon both silent and solemn. Her eyes looked to the one person who had come closer. Tarrant was staring at her with the most heartbreaking expression in his green eyes. She looked down to the boy in her arms, matching green eyes stared up at her empty and absent. She pulled his little head to her shoulder, crushing his body to her chest as she let out another sob.

"Alice?" it was a soft sad sound.

She turned to look at him as he dropped to his knees next to her. He removed his hand from his head, placing it next to him on the rock face. She couldn't say a word to him, merely shook her head, pressing kiss after kiss into her son's curls.

Pulling him back she watched his small head loll back over her arm, falling back as if he were sleeping. She bit down on her lip so hard it bled. She almost pulled Charlie from him when Tarrant reached over and then, with exceptionally gentle hands ran his fingertips over the boy's wide eyes, closing them. She broke all over again and this time she allowed him to come closer to her as he ran his hands over the son he had never known, tracing the round cheeks and pink lips.

"I'm sorry," she found she was whispering, holding him to her again as Tarrant edged closer to them, enclosing the body of their son between the two of them.

"Oh baby I'm so, so sorry," she begged as if it meant something, as if her will alone could bring him back, "Please, please, please..."

The chants were never ending and her normally talkative lover said nothing. He merely looked at her son's body as if he were witnessing the end of the world, as if his mind were not comprehending what he was seeing. She was sure the madness in him was growing but the grief in her was immense, taking root in her and expanding outwards. Above she could hear Stayne; his laughing, his cackling sound. The sound of his glee over her poor baby, already growing cold. The anger was brilliant and strong, as explosive as gunfire and she looked to Tarrant, even as his eyes met hers they were shining bright orange at the sounds that filled the air. Their eyes locked and for the first time in a long time she felt totally and completely connected to Tarrant. Moving forward she spoke to him with only her eyes, looking down at their son and then at him. Reluctantly she pressed the boy's body into the Hatter's arms. He took him gently, almost as if he were terrified of hurting him.

Turning her eyes upward Alice climbed to her feet. Stayne was looking down at them, staring with the same viciousness Alice felt inside her.

"Get far away from here," Alice commanded, "The Red Queen is in a cave, I will tell Kusmalin to bring her to you. Leave here and don't turn back."

"I won't leave you alone," he stated softly, almost coherently "I let you alone before I won't do it again."

Alice turned to look at him once more, the darkness in her own heart receding at the sight of him. Moving to Tarrant she first bent low to place a final kiss upon her son's cold brow before pressing her lips chastely to Tarrant's mouth. He responded almost desperately, not in a romantic sense at all but with all the need of a man who had just had his reality shaken. She allowed it simply because she felt she needed something (anything) to hold back the overwhelming tide of grief in her own heart. Parting from him she pressed her forehead to his, trying to transmit all her regret into that one point of contact.

"Please take care of him for me." she whispered softly, "If I don't come back do whatever needs to be done."

She pulled away from Tarrant even his hands hands shakily tucked Charlie's body to his chest and his eyes begged her not to go. Alice turned her head to those behind her, watched the tears fall from their own eyes. Her eyes met the Gryphons and she watched as he took a step forward, his form melting away to that of a human. He stood just behind Tarrant, his own face a mask of grief.

"Don't let the pain change you," he stated solemnly directly to her, "Let the darkness work for you but don;t let yourself be eaten by it my Lady. "

Alice rose to her feet, her eyes drifting back to Tarrant who was whispering softly to Charlie, as if the boy could hear anything now.

"It doesn't matter anymore," she answered softly, "You told me Charlie was special, that everything would be fine that we would find him if I just accepted my abilities. Well, I have and you lied to me. My son is...."

Her eyes met Tarrant's at the words even as she muttered them, she couldn't complete them. The Soundtrack of Stayne's mad laughter echoed through the air and in that moment she gathered about it. All the sadness and anger and the grief those around her were feeling. She pulled it tightly to her own powers, amplifying her own abilities. The feelings in her exploded behind her eyes and she dropped to her knees, gasping for air. She rocked on her heels, the darkness pulled to her and she worked as hard as she could to keep it from entering her soul, a case around the only vulnerable part of herself. Stayne's laughter was both a calling and a warning, her son's murderer was possessed and unless that was what she wanted for herself. A voice in her mind told her she didn't need to maintain the control for long, just enough to take out Stayne. After that, her eyes met Tarrant with apology and he looked up at hers with sadness, well after that....

"ALICE I'M WAITING!"

Her head shot up to the mountain were he was leaning over the edge. The darkness was staining the side of the mountain, dripping down in an oily mess. It was upon him too, slipping across his skin as if he were sweating out black oil.

She felt her power bubble, just below her, inside her and all around her. She felt it burn from inside, the brutal anger and the underlying river of it that Stayne drank from and she controlled. She felt her body change, twisting slightly into something different and she looked down at the Raven figure she still had tucked into her hand. With a deft hand she threw it before her and quickly clambered across the monstrous creature she created. Without a second look back she flew towards Stayne screaming her rage as the heavens erupted.

***

It was a mad, mad world.

He knew it was, he had seen it be before and it was again and sanity had flirted with him, promising him all sorts of wonderful things. Sanity had told him that being with Alice was possible, being a father was something he could do and together they could make a life. Sanity told him they had a chance and he had watched it disappear before him. He had watch it land on the rocks with the small body of his son.

Sanity was a lying bitch of a whore.

Oh, his son.

He looked down at the boy Alice had placed in his arms. He was beautiful. Simply stunning. He had seen that small face so many times in his life (most Hightopp children had a remarkable resemblance) but this time it was different. It was as if he had provided a blueprint and Alice had added things she felt were nice additions to create a child he could not have even imagined. So perfect. He reached over to run his hand through the think curly hair. Oh how lovely, it was a shade lighter then his own with Alice's gold intermingled. He had the perfect hat. He wondered if he son liked hats? Had liked hats... when he was....

Overcome he pulled back again, looking at the child again. The impact had broken the little body and he had never been so heartbroken watching Alice. He had thought that perhaps the reason she had not wanted him to meet the child was that she was not pleased being given one. As they flew all sorts of queer thoughts had interrupted his brief flirtation with sanity and one of them was Alice had not wanted the child after she had realized she would have him. But that had changed the moment he had see her. Alice, all in black, holding onto the little body crying so loudly, so painfully he felt his own mind shatter with every noise she made. She had whispered to the boy, holding his body so close as if she could reabsorb him fix him and birth him again anew. He had not known what to do. He had yet to actually meet the child. It was a strange experience, falling in love with someone without ever meeting him, but now he knew it must be so because his heart broke more with the death of this child. He had never thought to feel pain as it felt it now, not since he had watched the Jabberwocky burn all the Hightopps alive. He was no stranger to madness and he pulled it to him, using it to block the reality. After this, after all of this, he would never be the same again. He knew it. The transformation would be complete. He'd be the Mad Hatter, more so then before.

He laughed, and then whispered to his son, "A rhyme, they are so entertaining don't you think?"

With the boy in his arms he rose to his feet, holding him to his chest tightly. The others were watching him and he smiled at them happily.

"Have you all met my son?" he asked graciously, "Poor thing has had a big day, I'm afraid it would be best if we listened to his mother and retired. I would like to put him to bed."

Everyone was looking at one another. He wondered why.

"Hatter?" the white Queen began, her voice laced with uncertainty.

"Ah your majesty, where are my manners today?" he smiled, "This is my son. This is Charlie. I am sure you've heard a great deal about him. Isn't he wonderful?"

"Tarrant are you alright?" Chess asked, vaporizing next to him.

"Of course I am Chess," he replied, rather puzzled at the sudden interest everyone was giving him when his son was a great deal more interesting, "I know you've met him before but isn't he something? Looks like me don't you think?"

He saw the cat give an odd look to the assembly, twisting in the air. Tarrant smiled, ignoring the odd looks (people were always giving him odd looks) he drew his attention to Alice. Oh how happy Alice would be once she had finished with her business upon that mountain. He could see two dark shapes moving swiftly, out whisping through the hair like black smoke and the other slipping along the ground oily and dark. He smiled as the whispy one overtook the other. She would be tired tonight, perhaps he could convince her to take tea earlier then usual. They could fall asleep early. When he looked to the group, again ready to suggest they retire to Marmoreal he was shocked to see everyone right before him. He took a step back.

"Tarrant," the White Queen whispered gently, moving towards him, "Perhaps you could let me hold him?"

"No." he replied darkly, he could feel the protective anger rising in him.

"Please Tarrant, allow me to hold him...." she tried again.

"NO!" he screamed wildly, pulling the boy back and holding him tightly, "You'll not touch him. No one touches him."

She drew back, her face a mask of deep concern.

He watched her carefully. Alice had asked him to look over their son and he did not want to disappoint her, certainly not when she was already in such a bad mood.

"Give him to me Hatter."

He turned his head from the Queen to another, again his mood was dark. The Gryphon man stood before him, eyes as black as pitch and face a mask of sorrow. Tarrant moved back once more, keeping his son pressed against him in a defensive pose.

"He's my son... " Tarrant warned.

"He's dead." the Gryphon replied gently.

"HE'S MY SON," the Hatter cried again, this time with more vehemence.

The Gryphon drew himself up and then pressed a hand against the Tarrant's shoulder. He was shocked at the sensation. It felt as though a strong wind was blowing in his mind, as if all the confusing chatter in his mind was slipping out like sand in an hourglass. It was horrible. In that moment he looked down and saw the pale face of the child in his arms and knew, he just knew. He burst into tears, unable to hold back the flood of emotion. Dropping to his knees he tried to pull the madness back, to hide behind it as he had before. It had saved him so many times, when Stayne had tortured him, when death was all around him, when he had watched his people die madness had saved his soul. But now, now it was gone, stolen from him by the golden man who held tightly to his shoulder even as he tried to pull away and he fell to his knees with the weight of it. The Gryphon lowered with him, never relinquishing his hold.

"Give me the boy," Gryphon stated, softly this time.

Unable to fight or deny the Hatter reached his arms out.

The Gryphon took him gently breaking their contact and the moment his hand was gone Tarrant didn't fight the madness as it rushed back in. He embraced it and then he attacked the Gryphon


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Alright, I am really sorry about killing Charlie off but it had to happen. Don't worry I am a huge fan of marvel comics and lets face it no one there really stays dead for long.... **

The Eighteenth

She wondered if this was how the Hatter felt when his eyes turned orange.

The power swelling behind her even as she jumped off the raven she had created bolstered her abilities and before he could even move she brought her hand down upon his face. The crack sounded like lightening as her small fist connected with his corpse like face and he was thrown across the rocky outcropping and hit the rock face with terrific force.

As she landed on the ground she fell into a crouch, cocking her head to the right to watch his body slide from its place of impact to the ground, boneless and limp. To her surprise the veil of hair that fell into her eyes was inky black, even her nails seemed to be a black colour and as she raised her arm before her she could see every blue vein running beneath her skin and a soft black smoke rising off her as if she were on fire. She crawled smoothly along the rocky red ground like a lizard, her body moving with a smoothness she could not recall ever having. Somewhere deep inside herself she felt as if things had shifted, somewhere a part of her mind screamed at her to stop, that she was crossing some sort of line she was totally unprepared for. She didn't care. There were no more lines, they had all disappeared on the tide of her son's end. No right and no wrong. Just her and Stayne and her dead son far below them.

Her eyes turned upwards, looking at the pouring rain and not even starting as lightening cut across the hair, heralded by ear splitting thunder. She was so distracted by it she did not see him move, only noticing the impact of his foot to her side. Pain exploded in her ribs as she rolled across the plateau to the very edge and managed to catch herself. Stopping on her side barely a meter short of the edge she turned to look up at the man who had attacked her.

It had been almost a decade since she had last seen him but she was certain that had not looked as he did when she had last seen him. His face was that of a dead man's with sunken eyes and thick blue veins everywhere, his skin had taken on a transparency she thought hers must also have at this point. Large grooves and gouges that looked remarkably like fingernail scratches littered his features. He looked at her with eyes so black and shiny she was reminded of oil and she watched as black tears seemed to be trailing down his scarred and pocked face.

"I've been waiting for you," he growled out, she was not surprised to see even his teeth were inky and black, "I had expected you to be a little more punctual."

"I had expected you to be a little less vile," she sneered, slashing out at him just to have him avoid her claws "However it looks as if we both shall have to resign ourselves to the disappointment."

He laughed at her, a cold sound that made her heart beat fast. The blackness seeping from his every pore to pool at his feet in a slick mess. Even as he towered over her she stayed low to the ground, completely unafraid. The sadness and grief in her mind numbed her to everything else and a coolness passed through her as she looked upon him. Reaching down he grabbed her around the throat heaving her up to stand eye to eye with him. She felt her own feet leave the ground as he brought her to his face.

"You are so beautiful," he ground out, pulled her closer so that his lips were almost touching hers, "So much more beautiful now and you will be my Queen, the moment you cross the Outland mountains you will be a Queen."

"You killed my son!" she ground out, low and dangerous.

The power came out of her in waves and even as his grip on her neck tightened she threw her arms out and scored her nails across his cheeks, drawing out great slashes in the already paper thin skin. He let out a pained cry, throwing her to the ground so hard that she heard at least one of her ribs crack within her chest. Again pain exploded but she forced herself to roll out of the way and avoid his boot.

"Whore!" he roared at her as the skies screamed with him, the oily puddles he was leaving wherever began to draw in and he threw a hand out to her.

She moved swiftly, the smoke rolling off of her as she moved, obscuring his view of her. She threw her hands out and brought them together, bathing the area in a blackish of curling smoke, hiding her from sight and his thrashing hands.

"You dirty whore," he continued, turning in his place while he tried to locate her "I did you a service. I disposed of that little mutt, I am going to make you a great Queen and we will rule Underland."

She stalked the area, well aware that he could not see her while she saw him as clear as day.

"I will never be a Queen," she stated solemnly, "I have never wanted to be one. The only thing I ever _wanted_ was to live in peace with my son. You took that from me Stayne. All you do is take what is not yours. This power you have, this is my power. It is mine to control and I have the ability to bestow it and take it away."

She reached out mentally to that hot core of her opponent, the centre of the void that had once been his soul and with all her will she pulled as hard as she could.

His scream was wrenching; pure unadulterated pain and she revelled in it. She tore at it again, stripping raw layers of power from him and pulling them back into the well of her own power, exposing his evil for what it was. The effort was taxing, exhausting but she kept a tight grasp on the thread of power connecting him to her. Suddenly she felt a pull, painful as a hot iron in her belly. Looking him she saw Stayne before her, his own nearly skeletal hand on the other side of their now visible line.

"I have fought my entire life for this," he gasped, "I will not allow myself to be brought down by your will again."

He tugged again and she gasped at the searing pain. Her eyes widening and her own abilities momentarily suspended. The black smoke rushed back towards her, as if it were still attempting to hide her to no avail. The only way she could describe the sensation would be having one's insides pulled out through their navel and even then it was a thousand times worse. Their connection was painful and primal and he was just as desperately dragging on it as she was.

"My ambition feeds this darkness," he continued, pulling her again, "I want what you have Alice and if you will not give it to me I will take it."

Again the sensation and she dropped to her own knees, the smoke dropping to the ground as if it had been weighed down to reveal Stayne almost atop her. His black eyes stared at her deeply, and his mouth curved into a smile. His hands wrapped around her throat and he pressed down, cutting off her air. She found herself strange all right with it. The desperation for air was superseded with the knowledge that she would join her son. Acceptance came to her almost instantly and a sort of sad peace ceased her struggles against him. She just looked at him passively. Perhaps this was for the best.

"It's a pity," he whispered lowering his face to place a sour kiss upon her lips, "you are so, so lovely. You would have made a good mother to my children and to think you wasted yourself upon that horrid little mistake and a man who was so weak in spirit he went mad when he was faced with death."

The words pierced through her subconscious and her thoughts immediately went to Charlie. Her sweet little boy. A thought of him suckling at her breast, a newborn sweet and innocent with no knowledge of who he was or where he had come from. His eyes had never been that cloudy baby blue, they had been a smoky olive. His first steps, he had seemed so small when he had been reaching out towards her as he finally let go of the edge of the wall and stumbled towards her trustingly. His first day at school, the first time she had seen other children be mean to him and how her heart had broken over and over again as his tears soaked the bodice of her dress. She remembered seeing his small body falling before her, just out of reach. Her son smashing against the unyielding rocks. He had done this. Stayne had done this and she was going to let him do it to others. If she didn't stop him here it would never end. The pain would go on and on and grow, putrefying Wonderland as it spread. The pain erupted within her. His hands stopped her from making noise but she didn't need air to display her feelings. The smoke returned, rolling off her in waves. The skies screamed her pain out for her and the heavens tossed out a tempest of pure rage. Alice could only think of her son, holding his little body to her chest and hoping against everything that she could bring him back even while she knew she could only grant death or slow it's progress, not reverse it.

She found the thread and this time she pulled it into her every part of herself, imbuing herself with Stayne's power, pulling it from his soul. He shrieking loudly, releasing her throat and allowing her a moment to gasp. She rolled over to her side, still aware of the pain of her broken ribs. She tried to stand but it became clear her injured ankle had not taken well to the fighting for she was no longer able to support herself on it. It didn't matter, it wasn't physical strength that she needed. Again she held tightly to the mental thread connecting them and pulled with every bit of power in her. She held onto the grief of her losing Charlie, of missing Tarrant all those years and the look on his face as he held their son's body. He would never know how wonderful Charlie had been, how intelligent and kind and talented. He would never know because Stayne had taken it away. Illosovic Stayne had taken all the wonder and potential that was her son and had dashed it upon the rocks. The sky screamed for her, long jagged bolts of lightening shooting across the sky. She watched as his face seemed to grown gaunt as the black magic tore its way out of his body, responding to her call.

"You made me," Alice hissed, crawling closer to him as he dropped to the ground.

She rolled him onto his back as realized she could now control the magic within him. He listened to her commands and let his hands fall to his sides. His breath came out shallow and painful, his eyes searched for some escape and she felt the glee of knowing there was nothing for him.

"You and your greed and the lies you fed everyone and your own cruelty," she kept going, crawling so that her head was looking over his.

She bent low so that her hand was planted at the crown of his head and she looked right into his eyes, starring down him. Black met Black. Fear met elation.

"You've ruined my life" she whispered, running her knuckles down the side of his face, dragging them to his hairline, "You made me kill the Jabberwocky, you fed the Red Queen's paranoia. You made me drink this poison you've been trying to spread and you've tainted my soul."

He didn't struggle, the darkness in his eyes receding as she continued to pull. His body far to weak to fight her. He stared up at her, looking at her upside down, black oozing from the side of his mouth.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, a choked, sputtering sound over broken jagged teeth.

"A soul for a soul," she whispered softly, lowering his mouth to his.

She kissed him deeply, pulling all the power form his body and then his very soul. She inhaled it, drinking in the sensation. It was intoxicating, intense as she breath in his essence taking in his life and death and watching his power enter her and fill her totally. To take everything from him, every small piece of goodness he had ever had and let the darkness creep into her own soul by devouring his. The pleasure was so intense she found herself taking more and more, every part of her wanted him. Consuming him, making everything that was disappear. She let out a low moan of satisfaction, barely capable of containing herself.

Then she stopped.

Pulling herself from him with a desperate gasp she watched as he took in his own shuddering breath. No longer able to move, no longer able to fight and barely able to breath. She rolled backwards. To kill him would end her, she was sure of it. It was the line the Jabberwocky had crossed so easily, a line she was now skipping upon. The idea that it was so easy rocked her, one more moment and she would have done it, poisoned her soul and then spent the rest of her existence a slave to the blackness she was supposed to be safe guarding. Charlie would have been so ashamed of her. She let out a painful cry as her thoughts drifted to her son.

She turned to look at Stayne. He was upon the soaked ground, a long, lean living skeleton with scars and gouged out black hair. His eye patch gone and the eye fused shut while the rest of him looked as if every little bit of colour had been pulled out. He was little more then a corpse, no more dark magic existed in him, merely the seed of darkness that was the majority if his soul. An emptiness, a void of feeling. She should kill him, before he did this again but she couldn't bring herself to do it. There was no point. It was over. She was finished.

Without a word she pulled herself to her feet, limping painfully to the edge of the ledge. Then, without another word, Alice jumped into the sky and let the winds carrying her.

***

The infirmary at Marmoreal was a great deal busier then Mirana could ever remember it being previously. They had arrived merely two hours ago and already there were subjects large and small scampering about, attending to the wounded members of their party. Well, wounded member. And Iracebeth was more of a surprise then anything else. Even with the flooding that had apparently occurred in the last few hours and those that had been brought into the palace to escape the rising waters that could drown her kingdom her sister was her greatest concern. She looked down to the bed she sat alongside and watched as one of the doctors hovered over the small woman. Iracebeth had been delivered to them via the strangest creature, a large deer that had stated his name was Kusamlin and whose herd was currently grazing on her water logged lawns. Alice had ordered him safe guard the Red Queen and he was following orders thoroughly, refusing to leave until Alice herself returned. Mirana could not bring it in herself to be concerned about that, not when her sister was laying before her in this state. She had been horrified to see the extent of her sister's injuries. A vicious knife wound had torn open the Red Queen side and no one knew how she had managed to avoid bleeding to death. Her skin was paler then Mirana had ever seen it and she wasn't even wearing any powder and she was littered with bruises, cuts and scrapes at all stages of healing. A knowing chill ran down the White Queen's spine. Whoever had been beating Iracebeth had been doing it for sometime. Alongside her own vigil sat the Hatter, engrossed in his. His battered hands worried his pink handkerchief which was already stained with the orange of his tears. He hovered over a hospital bed within which was tucked the all too pale body of the child for some time before settling into his chair an hour ago. He had not moved since.

She turned her attentions back to her sister. She had watched as Iracebeth had awoken slowly, eyes adjusting to the light and her new surroundings. Her sister had looked at her in amazement and graced her with a grateful smile before turning her head to the side and seeing the boy. Then her older sister did something Mirana had never seen her do before, Iracebeth of Crims cried. Mirana had not known what to do. She feared her sentence exile had been too hastily made and judging by the Red Queen's condition her fears were very much affirmed at this point. She cared for her sister but the darkness in her was too threatening to run wild through Underland, her bloodlust to powerful to allow her a normal life. Still, when Mirana had seen Iracebeth's eyes looking up at her she had seen the change. Her sister was changed, for better or worse she could not say, but the change was there and it was plainly visible.

"What happened?" she finally asked, her face a mask of sorrow.

The Hatter turned to look at them, as if he were seeing the Red Queen for the first time, then he merely shook his head and turned his attention back to the still boy.

"Stayne," Mirana replied gently, "Threw him off the mountain face. We arrived too late."

Her sister said nothing more, merely curling into a small ball and crying, her crimson hair loose around her large head. Mirana simply took her seat next to the Hatter and Iracebeth, watching the poor man with just as much pity as everyone else seemed too.

He had truly gone mad in those moments after the boy's death and when the Gryphon had touched him and the madness had been stripped away she saw sorrow as she had not seen it before. Red and raw and exposed. The Gryphon had knocked him unconscious when the Hatter had attacked him in his blind rage. Her heart went out to the Hatter who was speaking very little as he sat alongside the body. The March Hare and Dormouse had come to see him to ask what had happened, they had said nothing when they witnessed the painful image of the man cradling his dead child in his arms. She would arrange a funeral for the boy, something tasteful and worthy of his bravery. The ravens had been telling him stories all day of Charlie's genius, charm and bravery when faced with a monster like Illosovic Stayne, secretly she wished she had killed him when he had asked all those years ago. This was her fault and she knew it.

"How is he?" a voice interrupted her revere.

She looked up to see the black eyes of the Gryphon before her. He was in his human form once more, his long white hair tied back into plait at the base of his neck, his lower half wrapped with a linen cloth and a golden belt. He moved gracefully, as if he still possessed a larger body then the one before him. His chiselled face observed her for a moment before he gave her a soft look.

"My Lord?" she asked gently, laying one hand upon Iracebeth and the other on Tarrant's shoulder.

"Lady Alice has defeated Illosovic Stayne," he stated as if he were merely asking for the time.

'That's wonderful," Mirana exclaimed with a smile.

He did not return it, merely walked to the clear side of the child's bed and sat down upon the side. Tarrant seemed to start at this but Mirana's hand upon his shoulder held him fast. His green eyes looked up at her with a childlike questioning and she smiled as reassuringly as she could before he returned to gazing at the body of his son.

"The cost was too high," the Gryphon said softly, "this was not as it was supposed to happen. I was too late to save the boy even though I promised Alice I would do. This mistake is mine."

There was a sort of hanging quality to the words that kept her quiet and she watched in amazement as he seemed to curve over the body of the boy, the golden glow of his features bathing the dead child in a soft buttery light. He titled the small head to the left and the right before placing a large golden hand on the child's chest. Tarrant started this time, moving to remove the hand but she held fast.

"Wait," she whispered to the Hatter and he stilled, his eyes still wide and careful.

The Gryphon bent lower, until his lips were nearly atop the child's. Then he exhaled.

Mirana had never seen anything like it before. Golden whisps exited his mouth like curling tendrils and even as his lips did not touch the boy's the golden light passed between them, flirting around the boy's mouth for a moment before rushing from the Gryphon to the child. She could only gaze in amazement as the child's body arched beneath the Gryphon's hand, which was still pressing down and holding him securely. She grabbed the Hatter around the arms as he struggled to get near the boy, and she had to call for Fairhaven to help hold him still.

The Gryphon kept the light upon him, bathing the boy in it and then the hand that was holding the boy down. The body arched up at the centre, following the movement of the golden man's hand as it rose higher and higher, lifting him into the air. Throwing his head back suddenly the Gryphon dropped backwards, landing on the mattress near the base of the bed and panting terribly. His brow looked to be soaked through with sweat, his skin seemed to loose it ethereal hue as he coughed and gasped in an attempt to catch his breath. However the child's reaction was much more interesting. The golden light was still all around the body, twisting around his limbs like vines upon a tree. He could see the pale skin being infused with light as it the gold itself was forcing warmth into the cold flesh and as the Gryphon dropped the child dropped to the bed himself. It took only a moment before the boy gasped painfully and began coughing himself, mimicking the White Lord's actions. his chest arched up and his eyes shot open suddenly. Mirana was not surprised to see that they were a pure golden colour, as if someone had bottled sunlight itself and placed it in is iris'. The boy gasped again turning to his side and coughing painfully. He reached over, pressing his hands to his side painfully and let out a small mewl of pain. In an instant she was at his side.

"It hurts," the small melodic voice whispered to her, his trusting eyes staring into hers.

She was enchanted.

"Where does it hurt?" she asked softly.

"My side." the boy replied weakly, "And my shoulder."

It was then he looked around, his head tilting and an all too familiar look upon his face.

"I had a dream that I died," he started slowly, as if he were trying to decipher it all in his mind, "and that a black monster had come to eat me and my mother was there..."

His eyes fixed upon her and only her, "Have you seen my mother? I've been looking for her for so long..."

A coolness seemed to spread across the air and for a moment Mirana feared that perhaps this was not all over. Her eyes sought out the Gryphon obviously incapable of defending anyone in his state and then to Fairhaven who quickly drew the vorpal sword. A swirling cloud of darkness entered the room, a total contrast the the light decor. Mirana tensed, already stepping in front of the small child. It was totally unnecessary as the black smoke twisted and curled, mixing together to create the form of a woman and then dropping to the floor as it trailed behind her like the train of a dress.

She was stunning, there simply was no other word for it. She stood before them, her skin lily pale but no longer dead looking. She seemed to gleam with a silvery light, as if the Gryphon's gold had met its mate. Her dress was inky black and cut in a Grecian style with two strips of cloth running from her shoulders down to her waist, covering her breasts but leaving her breast bone fully exposed. Between the V of her clavicles sat a large black diamond, perfect and glittering. The clothing was tied at her waist with a silvery chain and the dress left her hips exposed just a little. Her hair was dark black but held the same curl it always had and it shone glossy in the twilight.

Her expression was one of impassivity, her eyes completely black with absolutely no whites. She looked mournful, sorrowful and she stood where she had appeared and did not move.

"Mummy!"

With one word Mirana watched the image of Alice change. Her mouth dropped open, the black in her eyes seemed to recede. She shook her head for a moment, almost as if in a daze. Behind her Charlie had crawled to the ground, slipping off the bed while still cradling his sore side and shoulder but his eyes were brilliant and excited. He moved towards her, limping at his top speed.

She moved quickly, rushing towards him and dropping lower to scoop him in her arms then enclosing him totally and completely, burying her face in his red curls and pressing him to her. She pulled back suddenly and began peppering his face with tears and kissing, twirling him around in her arms. As her long curls rose into the air it seemed their own colour was returning. Mirana could only watch, she had never seen someone look so beautiful. She could not recall her own parents, very few people in Underland were able to do that but she liked to think in that moment that her mother might have loved her and Iracebeth as much as Alice seemed to love her son. The little boy clung onto her, his legs wrapped around her waist and his good arm holding tight to her neck.

"I thought I lost you," Alice kept repeating, forcing the boy's head from her shoulder so she could see him.

Mirana could see tears running down her face.

"Oh my baby," she sobbed softly, pressing him to her body tightly, "My sweet boy. Never do that to me again Charlie, do you hear me never again."

"I'm sorry Mummy," the boy was crying, "I'm sorry."

The entire crowd in the infirmary could only stand and watch. For all the things she had seen, monsters, magic, queens, kings, princes, gods and creatures of both nightmare and dreams this was perhaps the most touching and magical scene Marmoreal had ever beheld.

***

"So you will allow us to remain in Marmoreal for a time your majesty?" Alice asked pleasantly as she sipped her tea.

Mirana nodded gently, balancing her own tea cup upon her pure white saucer as the two sat upon the terrace looking out to the massive chessboard cut of the gardens. The cherry trees were in bloom, setting a light pink hue over the perfectly composed land and Alice smiled at the simplicity of it all. It's loveliness was absolute and Marmoreal had been a pleasant place to be for the last day or two, a much needed sanctuary in the wake of the last few days.

"I would be honoured to have you for as long as you would like to stay," The White Queen replied, taking a sip from her cup before raising an eyebrow at Alice, "Strange I hadn't thought we had any black teacups."

Alice grinned and took a drink from her own, "You don't your majesty. It seems this has been happening to most of my things as of late."

The Queen gave an amused smile, "In truth, that does not surprise me. And please Alice, call me Mirana. I think, at this point, station has been lost to us. You are, after all, a Queen of sorts."

Alice shook her head at that statement, "Stayne went on about that for some time. I am no Queen, I never wanted to be one nor shall I ever be one. I can't be a Queen, goodness, like this I'm hardly Alice."

The White Queen considered her words, looking at the younger girl with a kindness inherent in her very nature she shook her head, "We don't get to choose those sorts of things my dear. It is something fate chooses for us. I had no choice but to be a Queen, it was what I was born to. And although I was born the daughter of a King and Queen I can tell you were born for royalty as well."

"Mirana, " Alice stated, lowering her cup and saucer to the table and staring at her seriously, "I am not a Queen."

The White Queen laughed gently and took her own cup up once more, "I shall not argue with you upon the matter. I feel time will reveal all. Now, tell me have you spoken to Tarrant?"

Alice stopped and looked at the woman for a moment before lower her own eyes to her land. Her hands worried at her black dress. She had been avoiding the Hatter for the last few days, holed up with Charlie and no one else. In fact being without her son now was something of a risk as the young boy seemed to panic when she was out of sight. She was strongly reminded of when he was a toddler and she could not even use the lavatory without him standing outside of the door. She was concerned for his mental state and truth be told that was a wonderfully convenient excuse for her to avoid having a conversation with Tarrant. Of course the likelihood of her being able to speak to him was small considering whenever she saw him her tongue seemed to go dry within her mouth and her heart tried to crawl up her throat. In her defence he seemed just as terrified of both her and Charlie, heading in the opposite direction whenever he saw them.

"You haven't then." the Queen sighed.

Alice's head shot up, "Not on purpose, I mean, yes of course I haven't spoken to him. Um, what was I saying again?

The Queen chuckled, shaking her head and Alice felt her cheeks flush.

"I suppose I shall have to sooner or later," she replied with her own sigh, taking her cup in hand again and draining the dregs, "I had hoped to put it off some."

"Never put off to tomorrow what you can do today," Mirana replied easily, "He has waited for you you know. All this time he has loved no other woman but you. You have nothing to fear, when he looks at you it's with love in his eyes. The same love I see in yours right now."

Alice nodded softly, placing her cup on the table once again. Her eyes gazed over the brilliant dawn of Wonderland. It seemed as if her life in London was a million worlds away. Things had changed so much in such a short time.

"What if he doesn't like Charlie?' Alice asked quietly, "What if he's upset about him? I never meant to keep him a secret it just sort of happened."

The Queen looked at her with slightly smile, "I cannot say that he will be pleased he was not told sooner but I can promise you that the moment you entrusted you child to his arms before you went off to battle Stayne he stayed at that boy's side. No matter how badly seeing the child like that hurt him he sat at his side, waiting for you to return. Even though he has not spoken to the boy he loves him. I fear he is frightened of him, he has never been a father and his own was... not ideal. He will not go to you Alice, you must go to him. If that is what you want."

Alice bit her lip as the conversation turned to other matters. So many unresolved issues surrounded Tarrant and her own feelings not withstanding she knew that he deserved the choice and here he was giving it to her. She was certain should she decide that he would never speak to his son her lover would respect that. He had not come out of his workroom in the castle since the infirmary and even then he had not spoken a word to them, he had merely disappeared. Again it was her choice, to walk away or towards him but she knew that this time she must be certain. With Charlie and Tarrant both on the line this matter was too serious for her to change her mind after the fact. Alice toyed with her diamond necklace and then looked at the black tea cup with the small images of silver ravens in flight upon it. Some questions were never meant to be asked, their answers were far to plain to be spoken out loud.

***

Embracing in the middle of his workroom with the sun fading at his back Tarrant, the Mad Hatter of Marmoreal, stood by his original assessment. Of all the wonders Underland had to offer an Alice kiss was the most spectacular of them all.

* * *

**A/N- Well, all finished. Thanks so much to everyone for sticking with me through this, sometimes when I felt it was just going nowhere it was all the awesome support that kept the story going. There is a lot of stuff that I have purposely left in the air because the second part to this story is currently in the works. In the next one I will be looking more at the Alice/Hatter/Charlie relationship, Alice and Charlie's place in Wonderland and I plan on introducing a new antagonist. Please stick around to follow me a little further down this rabbit hole ;) **

**Much Love.**


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